


Remember Not To Love Me When I Disappear

by Oishii



Category: Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: Angst, Depictions of Violence in future chapters, Enemies to Lovers, Evil Julia, F/F, Lovers To Enemies, Past Brainwashing, This is a fever dream of mine, To all you psychotics out there, indulge yourselves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:07:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28641222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oishii/pseuds/Oishii
Summary: "Julia," she calls out, softly, a desperate whisper for a person she had lost since long ago. And yet her voice fell on deaf ears. Hands fell limp to the side, a shaky sigh, "Julia please--"With one last sinister smile, Julia lets Carmen go. "Don't be sad," she coos, albeit mockingly, "You'll be seeing more of me soon."At that very moment, Julia saw what Carmen Sandiego looks like as her heart breaks in two.
Relationships: Julia "Jules" Argent/Carmen Sandiego | Black Sheep
Comments: 112
Kudos: 187





	1. Sorry Baby, but the Villains just have more fun

**Author's Note:**

> Listen to [this playlist](https://www.youtube.com/redirect?v=b_scnEGK5bI&redir_token=QUFFLUhqbTZZZmVaenNaSmcxWmI3RGpKdkdtNEQxVkNqZ3xBQ3Jtc0tsWWhQLVhfT1NsZ2pVMjM0YVc4cHMwTGktOEc3SFk1Z0gzMmRrNTRpWHRZTHFiNjgxU1RuYnpSM3FWNy14SnlKR3BGS1V1cE1ITlpzdVhyY1FoaWVBbVVCTF9XOG5WV3BqTURHMGg1Y2psNXZDT3lhbw%3D%3D&event=video_description&q=https%3A%2F%2Fopen.spotify.com%2Fplaylist%2F6YSwCgkwA92P8oyqLPwBuN%3Fsi%3D1L8f0SX4Qv2ikt_G440E1Q) while reading ;)

You would have to admit, the sight of a busy city during the kiss of a windy night has some appeal to it. Julia doesn't have to wonder why the heroes in comics and novels alike love to brood in it. The sound of traffic, the smell of smoke, and just the overall _feeling_ being high up from the troubles of it all...

_Free_. Standing on the edge of a tall building's rooftop, you feel free.

Her dark blue coat did a fine job in shielding her from the cold, though she doesn't really mind the greeting on her skin. It's wake-up call of some different kind, a _reminder,_ that what she's doing right now was not for the faint of heart. Definitely not for the weak gutted either.

To think that only a few months ago she would've fitted both descriptions.

_Let the troubles of the past be troubles of the past._

"I'm in position," she speaks to her earpiece, never mind the slight grin on her lips. Was it pleasure, she wonders, or the _superiority_ her mind feeds into her veins as she looks down on all those people down the street? Minding their own business, talking to their loved ones through the phone—Julia would never be able to understand it if she tried. They all look so small, _so insignificant,_ that if she were to drop on them and squash their little heads in, most of the world wouldn't even know.

"Copy that, Caper is a go."

At the command for green light through her earpiece, she gives the bustling city skyline one last glance and jumps down from the edge of the rooftop.

Before she could even reach anything else, her glider pops open with a tick, pushing her up into the polluted hug of Paris‘ sky during one of its ever so mysterious nights. _Oh that blow of crispy cold night air,_ like a kiss goodbye from the lord of hell himself. _What a nice night to commit a crime._

By the distance, she sees her target. Louvre Museum. Glowing and Stunning, announcing its existence even from an insurmountable distance. It stands in all its pyramidal beauty, beckoning and calling for her name. _Come to me,_ it says through a hushed whisper, _I'm waiting for you._ Somehow, Julia has associated a strangely familiar voice to it, low and seductive, a _purr._ She couldn't help herself, she smiles.

Looking at the museum, she kept her eyes glued on the side where a van had just vacated the premises under the guise of darkness. Most likely other agents that had set up her infiltration for her. How convenient.

"I'm here, 5 minutes in and 5 minutes out, according to plan," she speaks once she has landed, unbuckling the glider belt and shaking it off her shoulder. An unconventional entrance had already laid itself bare to her, a perfectly cut circle through the glass. Her glider falls, but before it could even reach the ground, Julia had already gone into the belly of the beast. A beauty, right where it stood with all confidence to shame Olympus itself, but a beast nevertheless.

"Remember," the voice speaks through her ear once again, "Do not get caught. Especially by _her_ ," it says, accentuating the word _her_ too much to Julia's liking, but it was one of those small things she had ultimately decided to ignore. She knows very well who the voice was talking about, and despite the warning, _she can't wait to be caught by her._

Straight to work she goes. Swift and clean, just as her instructors in VILE taught her, not even a single crumb for her enemies to follow. A shadow, a desert howl in the night, she comes in and leaves in the blink of an eye. Ask the Gods if she were ever there, and they would answer with silence. Her foot touches the ground soft and gentle so as to not make a single sound, and she slithers from one corner to the other in search of her target.

Her glasses proved helpful as she needed not the guidance of light in such a dark environment like this, but she wished it was a bit lighter on the bridge of her nose. Oh well, nothing the technicians back at VILE couldn't fix.

Julia looks down at the GPS on her watch and smirks. The target is only a minute away from her hands. Oh, she could feel it now, the cold peck of frames against her fingertips, and another gush of cold air as she gets pulled out from the place, treasure, and glory in her hands. Her lips could not help but part to accommodate a wider, more sinister smile as finally, Julia rounds the corner and stands face to face with her target's ethereal beauty.

_There you are._

She stares, quite blankly if you ask, but not without the reverence she held for most items with such history painted on them. _Literally._ La Belle Ferronnière, another one of Leonardo Da Vinci's paintings of women. This one, much to Julia's awareness, was unknown, not her name nor her origins were made known to researchers. There were suspicions of who she was of course, but not anything certain.

Julia however likes to call it something different. It was a girl who wears a red dress, the girl in Red. _Le Femme Rouge._

"You beat me first," a voice claims from behind her, and she need not turn around to know who it was. "Impressive."

"Ever wonder how Da Vinci had the stroke of inspiration to look at a random woman and thought _, I should paint her_ , and here we are looking at his painting?" Julia starts, eyes still glued at the painting, hands to her side.

The clacking of shoes. Julia heard them well. How slow, how calculated, and how _cautious_ it was as it approached her. Those bright red boots of hers, a cry for attention. She could never forget the first time she had personally made contact with those boots, and how it almost crushed her windpipe.

"I can take a guess," Carmen Sandiego replies.

"All those brainwashing, rewiring, and yet VILE never thought to erase my innate passion for all things that had come and gone. Curious, don't you think?" This time, Julia turns around to finally look at her enemy in the eyes. Their dark eyes meeting through the even darker museum. Her boots squeaked against the floor, and it bounces against the corners of the room.

"Jules—,” Carmen calls, and Julia chuckles.

"You call for a dead woman, Ms. Sandiego."

"I will refuse to believe that she is dead, for as long as I breathe," Carmen comments sternly, but strangely enough Julia doesn't flinch. "I know you are still somewhere in there, Jules."

_Oh what a pile of bullshit,_ Julia could only roll her eyes at the stubbornness. Sure she has dealt with people who were more stubborn, but for some reason arguing with the girl before her, she might as well speak to a stone wall.

But she will play along for now. After all, it's not every week that she gets to meet the elusive Carmen Sandiego alone in a place like this. _Savor the moment_ , a voice speaks in her mind, perhaps the devil himself, _take all that you can and savor it_. Julia glances down on Carmen's neck, specifically at a certain blue pendant that dangles mockingly at her and her existence. She can't help to let out a scoff.

"I see you're still wearing that," she says dryly.

Carmen knew what the agent was talking about without following her gaze, and though it hurts her to see how _hateful_ Julia looks at the pendant, she kept her resolve in one piece. Any cracks and she'd be swimming in a sea of sharks. One wrong word, one slight slip of emotion, and Julia would gladly hold her up to the sky by her throat.

"What? _You_ gave it to me."

"It's an eyesore," Julia cringes, "Take it off."

" _Over my dead body_."

Julia figured. Talking with the girl never really ended in anything productive, a waste of both of their time. Despite that, she does wonder why she enjoys it so much. Tormenting the girl with nothing but words, see her mask break down with every jab she took to the girl's fixation on an old self Julia had long forgotten.

"I'm running on a tight schedule here, we should really get this over with," Julia sighs, fishing for her favorite 44 Magnum from its holster on her hips. Talking with the woman, even if they mostly just disagree on most things and argue, there was a reason Julia looks forward to it in all of her missions. That slick red coat, and an even slicker tongue, there was a certain _thrill_ to it.

But an even better thrill? Julia shivers, a small grin making its way to her lips. It was right there, all of it, right in front of her, living and breathing, fishing for her own set of weapons, looking at her _like that._

Like Julia was all she could see, and all she would allow her eyes to see.

_Oh, all that attention..._ Those piercing eyes, those pursed lips, and those furrowed brows. Julia would drown herself in the sea of nothing but those eyes and that look, and she would do so whilst staring God down from his throne in heaven, all with a smile on her face.

_Determination, Hope, Desperation,_ Oh if only Julia had a camera with her on her person to preserve it. Put it up in one of these halls for all the others to see _, to worship_ as much as she was doing in the moment. It was written oh so plainly on Carmen's face, so much so that Julia doesn't even bother deciphering those jumbled thoughts in the girl's head. She _knows_ what she wants, and it feeds her ego to ensure, with her own two hands, that the girl never gets it.

Julia attacks first, pointing the muzzle of her gun directly at Carmen Sandiego, hitting her right between her eyes if the girl had just stood there. Never mind, chasing should be all part of the fun, shouldn't it? So Julia does just that, _chase._ Every step her foot took, every jump and each exhale an investment to the eventual pleasure of seeing the girl on her knees, _defeated._

Carmen evades, and she keeps a few steps ahead of course. Nothing less from the world's best thief, nothing less from Julia's old partner in crime. Definitely keeping up with the expectation Julia had set for her, _like a good girl_. _Keep running. You'd have no choice but to stop for me soon._

"You never get tired, do you?" Julia quips. Carmen had appeared behind her and thrown a barrage of punches. Nothing she wouldn't be able to dodge and avoid, of course, all the while still having the energy to engage in friendly conversation.

"Could say the same to you," Carmen replies, ducking down from one of Julia's high kicks, perfect opportunity to disorient her. She does a quick sweep of her feet close to the ground, but Julia catches on quickly and jumped at the right time to avoid it.

"I wonder what people wouldn't offer to spend a night with you," Julia jumps up finally, doing a backflip to appear just inches from the painting, a teasing smirk on her lips, "What with that impressive stamina and all."

Carmen only huffs in frustration, "Stop it."

"Oops, touchy subject?"

Julia watches as the other girl loses her bearings for a split second. Like water had spilled all over her and her eyes were covered in something dim. Glossy and dazed, Carmen looks down on the ground, a panting mess. The woman wasn't close to giving up, however, Julia could tell she was only a breath away from pouncing on her again, continuing their little game of cat and mouse.

"I don't bother to know who you lie in bed with, Ms. Sandiego," Julia reloads her gun with a fresh round of bullets, eyes still locked on Carmen's kneeling figure on the ground, "However I do wonder..." lips wide with a hellish grin, "if you still get off at the thought of me—“

Carmen manages to leap at her, "I said stop it!" she wraps a stray thread around Julia's neck, willing to strangle her, but Julia waits. She waits for that harsh gasp and that slight falter and— there it was! _Months and she still can't bring herself to harm me. How silly._

"Oh hush down." Julia rolls her eyes and kicks her down, albeit probably a bit too hard, but she doesn't dare apologize for it, "I was only wondering."

With Carmen on a coughing fit on the floor, Julia could finally focus on the task at hand. That painting won't steal itself, nor would it loyally follow her out of the museum like a dog, though _that would_ be convenient. She was about to attach clips on the corners of the frame for ease of carrying out through helicopter, until Carmen interjects.

"This is wrong, you know that, don't you? Jules would never—"

Julia groans, "Must I repeat myself every time with you, Ms. Sandiego? Julia Argent is dead. Deny me anymore and I really won't be kind to you next time we meet."

_Next time_ , What a joke. Who knows when they'll meet again, or if Julia is even alive to have an opportunity like tonight again. You can really never be too sure with VILE's unpredictable and whimsical take on most things. She really is getting too ahead of herself, isn't she? Play with your food too much and it _will_ spoil.

"What, because shooting me with a gun is kind?" Carmen responds with a humorless laugh.

"In contrast to what I can do when pissed? Yes, very much so. I can make your life a living hell."

"More than what you're doing right now?"

Carmen launches another punch directed at Julia's face, but she deftly intercepts it. She grabs the arm by the elbow, and almost all too suddenly, she tugs on it hard, causing Carmen to stumble and latch on Julia's shoulder for support. Julia grins devilishly as she eyes Carmen down, relishing that wide eyed look and that bare emotion on the gloss of her eyes, leaning closer and closer to her face, " _Much, much more_ , Ms. Sandiego." 

It came out as a whisper. Julia waits for that reaction, her favorite one, where Carmen's eyes blow wide, and her pupils shrink to a dot. Lips parted and eyes locked with her enemy, Carmen takes a shaky inhale. _Yes, that's it,_ Julia groans in satisfaction, a laugh starting to bubble up her throat, _Keep looking at me like that._

"This is not you Julia," was all Carmen could say as a reply.

"I've been telling you that for months, you've finally caught up." Julia, hands still clasped painfully tight at Carmen's elbow, pushes her back harshly. Through all that surprise and clamoring on the floor, she sees her chance to swipe the painting of the wall.

She sighs, closing her eyes as this feeling of triumph fills her every fiber once again, for nights and nights in a row, as she hears the helicopter whirr loudly on top of her, glass breaking, and Carmen Sandiego on the floor looking up at her through that lidded eyes of hers.

_This is it._

"You have failed once again, Carmen Sandiego."

_This feeling..._

Carmen looks up at her, defeated, and with what Julia could recognize as a single tear gliding down her caramel cheeks. _Lovely, how lovely._

"Proceed with extraction, job well done, _La Femme Noir,"_ The voice speaks through Julia's ear piece one again, and she could not help the chuckle that broke free.

She looks back at the girl in red below her, her hands fisting the red cloak she wears so closely against her body. Her chuckle stops. There was no fun in teasing someone who doesn't bother to reply with a reaction, but it doesn't turn Julia down, no of course not. It riles her even more. _A challenge_.

"I suppose I have you to thank for inspiring my codename, Ms. Sandiego. It's quite lovely, don't you think?"

Carmen doesn't answer.

"Well, till next time I guess. Do be sure to try harder, and I just might reward you."

"I will get you back," Carmen finally finds it in herself to say something, right before Julia leaves, "I swear to God, I will get you back, Julia."

You have to admit, her resolve really was an astonishment. It deserves a glorified hall all on its own, glittered with jewels and countless servants and worshippers. Even in her defeated state, she manages to pull a look like that, _so sure of herself,_ so devoted. Why would Julia bother to look at important figures of historical value for feelings of gratification when it kneels submissively before her?

"Careful with that. Don't make promises you can't keep. It's a waste of precious time."

With that, the helicopter pulls her up and leaves, the painting in tow. There Julia goes, disappearing into the night, along with another shattered piece of Carmen Sandiego's heart in the pocket of her coat.

_What kind of tea should I indulge myself with tonight, I wonder?_


	2. Who'll Carry Me without Legs to Run, Honey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip down memory lane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. I know I said I will post the next chapter on or after Jan 15, but like....I'm too excited? Anyway, have fun!  
> Listen to [this playlist.](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7og0osX6OkRUiy2WoaOhvv?si=aoe6DrToQIqxMWXIKDGjKg)

**_8 MONTHS AGO_ **

"There's no way they changed HQs without us knowing, right?"

"Maybe they rebuilt that place they had back at the Canary Islands, I mean it's worth a look...right?" Zack looks back at Carmen, hopeful eyes, and blesses his sweet soul, but she had not heard a thing. Or even if she had, she could not bear to take their points seriously. She could not bear to look at those hopeful eyes Zack wore, and _hope_ once again. Only for her to try—and she swears to heavens above that she does _try_ —, arrive at the place, skin drenched from cold sweat and mind leaden with anxiety, and find out that she is not there. _She is nowhere_.

She can't break down. Not again. Not in front of the same people who look onto her for hope. Not when she had depleted her dam of tears, not when she _desperately wants to_. Carmen Sandiego can't lose herself like that again. With her shaking hands and numb legs, she forces herself to stand up from the cold pavement of the curb.

Shadowsan had continued inside their headquarters to talk with Player about the issue, while the rest of the team remained outside to talk amongst themselves. The conversation leaned heavily towards theories and educated guesses, Carmen admits to herself they were never going to get anywhere with that.

Zack and Ivy look at her, mouths suddenly ceasing to talk, "You both should head in for sleep..." Carmen says with an exasperated smile. She _smiles_ , despite it all. It felt like she had to break a bone to bring that smile out, and with the amount of _pain_ her heart and her body alike scream out, she might as well have. If only it took breaking a bone to get her back, she would do so without a second thought.

"We'll find Julia soon, Carm, just sit tight, okay?" Ivy responds with a sympathetic smile. It was meant to be helpful, it was _supposed_ to be helpful, but to Carmen, it just felt like words she needed to hear. In a way, she's glad Ivy took to those words instead of unloading unto her the harsh truth.

_VILE is gone. They kidnapped Julia during one of your missions and they got away with it. God knows what they're doing to her right now, and you'll never find her again. You can try, but you will fail. Over and over and over again, till there's nothing of you left that Julia can come back to. You lost, and VILE didn't even need to do anything to you to make it happen._

How low. How incredibly low Carmen has fallen that she would sooner lap up sugar-coated lies than face the truth.

She stood in front of that building, right next to a whirring car engine, staring at nothing. All life had left her arms completely, and soon it would leave her legs as well. She would fall into a heap on the ground, hair swaying with the wind, and she would cry but no tears would fall. Just sobs, and chokes, and the immeasurable pain of having known her other half had been ripped apart from her without the promise of return.

She will break. Then she will break again until there were no more of her to fracture. Until she was nothing but a shattered mess on the floor, craving warmth from a body she may never touch again. Craving for a smile she may never see again, and a voice she may never hear again.

She wonders if anybody has felt like this before. She wonders if her mother felt the same way when her father died reaching for car keys under the hands of incompetent police. She wonders if her heart had broken beyond recognition as well. She wonders if it ever felt as painful as this. Carmen would ask if she could, but alas there was no audience to her misery right now but the stars in the sky.

_**6 MONTHS AGO** _

Since disappearing from Scotland, VILE had not made their presence known for a while.

Still, even with their disappearance, and the uncertain news of their return, Carmen and her team felt no pleasure. Especially Carmen. To be honest, these past few weeks she felt nothing at all. Not pleasure, not sadness, nothing. Her taste buds seemed to share the sentiment as nothing she ate taste anything of what it used to taste like. So, instead of tasting the same thing over and over again despite the difference in dishes every single night, she decided she'd rather not eat at all.

A simple solution to a very simple problem. Sick of your food tasting like ash every time? Just don't eat. It made sense, at least in Carmen's head it did.

"Soup. It's just soup, Carmen. Mon Dieu "

Carmen sat at a chair right across a man she never thought she'd ever see again. Chase Devineaux. The ACME agent and the detective himself. Though maybe she should remember to say ex-ACME from now on as the man had quit the organization a month ago after his partner's disappearance, and their organization's nonchalance about the whole thing.

He had avoided them like a plague the first month it happens. God knows what Chase was doing behind closed doors at that time, but Carmen doesn't care to ask. All she knows is that a month later, precisely a week ago, Chase appeared on their doorstep looking like he had been trampled over by horses and shat upon (Harsh description, I know) claiming he wants to help in the search.

It wasn't Carmen who let him in the warehouse and made plans to make one of their empty rooms his own, heck she didn't even _want_ him here, but there they were.

Reluctantly, Carmen takes the bowl of warm mushroom soup Devineaux had managed to whip up in the kitchen. She doesn't even know why she sniffed it when she knows it wasn't going to smell appetizing. Not to her anyway.

After having accepted the soup, Chase decides to take the chair in front of Carmen. He had grown a beard during these months, and it was just as unruly as his personality. He hadn't even bothered grooming it as it sticks out in every direction possible. Carmen supposes it's okay, at least she's not the only one who looks like shit around the place anymore.

"I found a new lead," Chase begins, placing down separate pieces of paper down on the table and his signature red yarn. It's technically his third ' _new_ ' lead, but Carmen lets her mind drift off instead of listening to him.

She hadn't given up on finding Julia. Not yet. But she's not going to lie, she does feel like doing nothing but sleep on most days. Even going to the gym and breaking a sweat doesn't sound as appealing as it used to. Everything was dull. Her room was dull. The food is dull. Books she used to enjoy are dull. Music sounds dull. Without her, everything fell into a monotonic waltz in a black and white ballroom.

_Julia_.

There it was. Just the thought of her name sends a blooming pain in her chest, moving out in cascades through the rest of her body, wracking her and depleting her of the energy she has left. _Julia. Her Julia_. 

Carmen had drifted out into a sea of her thoughts. Black as its waves were, it flowed smoothly under her boat, oars propelling the girl forward. In the waters, she saw Julia, the first time they had officially introduced themselves in that train, the way she looked offhandedly to the side and ramble on and on about why the Magna Carta was so important. It fades as soon as it appeared, and the next scene follows almost immediately. That one was their walk, in Milan, she looked so nervous next to Carmen that night that the red thief couldn’t help the glint in her eyes as she found the girl extremely charming.

Then came the more precious ones after that. Their first kiss in Julia's apartment in Poitiers, France. Their first date out in a local café just north of London. Carmen's first night out with Jules on a mission in Botswana. And last was the night Julia had gifted her that blue pendant, on a cliff somewhere in Southeast Asia. Carmen felt like she just took a trip backward through memory lane, every sway of her boat was an ache in her heart as one by one those memories drift off into a shore far away. Far from Carmen's reach.

"Carmen," Chase calls out, forcefully pulling Carmen out from her stupor. "Have you been listening?"

Carmen wants to say no, but she responds with nothing instead.

"As I was saying..."

_**5 MONTHS AGO** _

It was during this time, That VILE started to appear in the headlines once again.

Carmen remembers it clearly. It was early in the morning, and she had just woken up from a dreamless sleep to bickering outside her room. Most likely the twins, and little bits and pieces of Chase Devineaux arguing with them, for whatever reason.

She climbs down the stairs to the main living room after a morning shower to...a mess.

"It's VILE!" Zack announces through the chaos, "They're back!"

The TV was on, and despite being aware of the news, the twins were not focused on watching it at all. They decided bickering with each other was a better use of their time than listening attentively. Chase was by the other chair shushing them ever so often while Shadowsan watches from the kitchen, a kitchen knife in hand.

"What do you mean?" Carmen demands an explanation.

"A heist, in Malaysia. The news reported the missing artifacts, but they never found out who took them. We suspect VILE," Shadowsan answers sternly.

"What do you mean suspect, It is them Shadowsan! And they're starting to make noise again. What do you suppose we do?"

Chase looks expectantly at Carmen, and she knew exactly what his eyes were saying. _There is a chance,_ Chase stands up from the chair and approaches her in three long strides, _She could still be with them and we can rescue her. Finally!_

Carmen could not bear thinking about it again.

"If it truly is them, then our goal hasn't changed. We have devoted ourselves to stopping VILE, and we will," She announces, for all of the people in the room to hear. Even herself. Even herself who demands she change the goal, change it to prioritize saving the _love of her life_ over saving artifacts she has little to no sentimental value to. A hand tightens to a fist on her side...

_Jules is gone... You have to admit it sooner or later._

"Carmen!" Chase places a firm hand on her shoulder, "My partner, Ms. Argent—“

"Chase, we will talk about this later."

Will they, though? Will Carmen brave to go down that path once again? That swirling void of misfortune and misery that sucks the life out of your soul and spits you out in its other end nothing but a numb shell of a person. She loved Julia-- she still _loves_ her, with all of herself. She would still surrender everything for her. She would still offer the world for her. She would still dare to do all these things even for a glimpse of a memory of her smile, for it fades ever so slowly in the depths of her grief-stricken mind.

To find her again, to _try_ to find her again, and to find nothing at the end of it all. Could Carmen afford to break into a million pieces once more?

It was a question she was afraid to answer— no, that was not it. She was not afraid of answering it. She was afraid of what the answer would be. Because even if the sky falls on top of her, or the ground breaks under her feet and swallows her whole, she knows the answer is yes. She knows she would do it all over again. She knows she would burn herself over the mere _chance_ of seeing Julia again. She knows she would risk her sanity for her. She knows it, and it scares her.

_Julia_.

Her name holds a unique after-taste in Carmen's mouth each time she speaks it. Citrusy, and sweet like flowers. Just like that and she could taste life again. Just like that and she could look forward to another day again, even if it was a day not spent tucked under the bed with her by Julia’s side, her warmth, enough to light up the fire within her once again. Julia began to be everything Carmen would ask for and would wish the heavens for.

"Work resumes today, I'm going to call player," Carmen says, a smile starting to form on her lips.

"Carmen," Chase still insists, and Carmen looks at him dead in the eye this time, a hopeful glint in them, "Later. I promise. I haven't given up yet, almost, but not yet."

_I haven't given up on you. Wait for me, please._

_**4 MONTHS AGO** _

“It’s our very first caper in months! Let me warm for up a bit," Zack exclaims as he steps out of the getaway car, stretching his arms in all directions and jogging excitedly around the said vehicle. He was having his fun times until Chase decided he’s had enough of it. Chase opens the passenger side door exactly as Zack was bolting through it, and it hit him square in the torso.

"Your screaming is going to alert anybody around of our mission, how do you people best us with this crew all the time?"

"I do wonder that sometimes too, Devineaux," Carmen quips from behind him, a smirk on her lips.

"Head into position, we don't have much time until VILE agents start swarming the place," at Shadowsan's command, everybody hurried off. Anybody who was not involved in the actual heist will wait outside with the getaway car, and anybody who can handle themselves in a fight against trained operatives will head into the digging site.

VILE's target for tonight, according to Player, is the Fucauma Diamond Mining Site in Angola. As the name suggests, it's a site where VILE could get years and years of money stealing diamonds from, and under the cover of the night too. 

Production has slowed down due to the decrease in demand, but instead of deterring VILE from picking it as a target, it was the point in the mine's lifetime where illegal diamond extraction is possible. Less demand means less production, and less production requires fewer people and fewer resources. Fewer people means fewer witnesses to get rid of if need be.

The influx of diamonds would be located inside the mines as the employees haven't moved them out yet for shipping. Carmen could tell, from Chase's quivering physique as the three of them including Shadowsan enters the mine, that he was not fond of closed-up spaces. Especially ones that can fall and crush them at any given time.

"This VILE," Chase starts, drawling out the name on purpose, "do they send different agents for different missions or do they just send the same person over and over again?"

"The former, what use would hundreds of agents have if you only get to use one?" Carmen answers.

Chase makes this huffing noise as to agree, hugging himself tighter, away from the walls, "Let's all hope that tonight they send their dumbest."

They near the heart of the mines, not minutes later, just on schedule. "Diamonds should be up ahead, Red," Player says through the earpiece. Time for Carmen, yet again, to pull her a game. By the end of their tunnel, they spot the sparkling diamonds stored in a chest half their size. She whistles at the size and the amount, it sure would be a pain in the back to carry out of the mines all on their own, a good thing they have a plan.

"Are the carts wired?" Carmen asks into her piece, but not as a response to Player, instead a question handed off to Ivy, the mechanic of the team.

"Wired and ready, Carm!"

Carmen looks to Shadowsan and Chase then nods firmly. They understand and hurry off to load the diamonds one by one onto the mine carts—

"Not so fast!" Carmen swears to God she's tired of hearing that voice, _hundreds of agents and they always send tigress to ruin my day. What happened to diversity among the team?_

"Hello again, Tigress," Something was off about the Feline tonight, Carmen could feel it. She had this wicked smile as if she had already won before even doing anything. Before even securing the diamonds, nor defeating her enemies. Carmen guessed it was just her ego getting ahead of her once again and paid it no mind.

To say Carmen was surprised Tigress had not made a beeline to her throat as soon as she landed was an understatement, she even went far as to think it was _her_ fault Tigress was disinterested. But no, she headed straight for Shadowsan, who matched her strikes with his sword blow per blow. Two other agents had appeared from nowhere, just behind Tigress, and one of them Carmen swears she had never seen before.

"Noir, you handle Carmen Sandiego!" Tigress commands, and this new agent in slick black Spandex, leather boots, and an unoriginal masquerade mask on their face, never mind the shoulder-length half up half down raven-colored hair.

"Who the he—" Noir lunges at Carmen Sandiego without hesitation, feet forward in a kick. Carmen manages to evade, only an inch to spare for sloppy mistakes. After that high kick, was another one, and the more Carmen blocks, the more this Noir person fights back in full. _The young ones are always insufferable._

Carmen manages to land a punch, sending the agent back for a few seconds as they recollect their bearings. "I don't believe we've met," Carmen says as soon as she was free enough to catch a fucking break, _damn I'm rusty_. "I'm Carmen Sandiego."

Leave it to the international criminal to find the time for introductions with the enemy.

"I know," the agent says and Carmen raises a brow and stops. She's heard that voice somewhere before. "The one and only, am I right?"

"Yes—," Carmen barely dodges a flying kick.

"Good." Noir returns with twice the force and the speed she was going with earlier, quicker in rebounds this time and making sure to match Carmen's tenacity, not off, not even by a millimeter. A smile was on her lips, and it widens the more Carmen visibly slows her movement. A flaw here, and another flaw there, Noir was successful in delivering her attacks, taking advantage of Carmen's rustic state.

"Hey! Not the face!" Carmen side steps just in time to maneuver out of Noir's punch and hauling her down to the ground. Back to soil, Noir was disoriented from being mid-air one second and plummeting to the ground the next, and she makes the grave mistake of taking a second to recover. Just like that, in less than an instant, Carmen's got her foot pressing down on the agent's neck.

It wasn't harsh, per se, but it was enough to cause the ridiculous mask to fall.

"Miss me?" Julia grins, despite the chokehold.

Carmen stops. No, she was seeing things. There was no way Julia would be here in front of her right now, _fighting_ her of all things, not hugging her, not _kissing_ her, but _fighting_. It was the closed space. Or the possible lack of oxygen. Carmen swears that was it. That was all. She's not breaking Julia's windpipe right now, she's not—

"Don't stall," Julia speaks once again, and that was it. That was all it took for Carmen to fall on her knees, doesn't matter if there were literal sharp rocks on the ground, it doesn't matter that her legs were sore from fighting, it doesn't matter. None of it does. None of it mattered to Carmen, nothing but Julia. Julia and her smile, her freckles, her voice, her... _fist_?

Carmen feels the pain from the back first when she falls to the ground rather than the punch she just took to the face. Her hand comes up to cover the area, but her eyes stuck to Julia, and her spandex suit, her hair— _it's longer_. 

"I said don't stall. Stand up." Julia barks an order, only then did it hit Carmen that she indeed was fighting Julia. That this was not a trick of the mind. She is with Julia right now, but they were on different sides of the battle.

"Julia—"

_Another punch._

"Call me by that name again and I'll kick your face this time."

"Ms. Argent!" Devineaux, not too far off from where the battle was happening, had exclaimed in nothing but pure joy, even though he was being bested by the VILE agent. "Ms. Argent! I knew we would find you! You're okay!"

Julia rolls her eyes in annoyance. "Oh, it's _him_."

She had spoken with so much malice dripping on her tone that Carmen flinches. Like skin to fire. The tone does not suit her, and that look doesn't suit her, the attitude doesn't suit her. It doesn't make sense, this was Jules. The same one she had kissed under the moon, the same one she had made love to, the same one she _grieved_ for. And yet, at the same time, it was like she was an entirely different person.

In that moment of realization, all the negative feelings Carmen had bottled up in the last few months, had begun bubbling up. Pushing forcefully to her mind, past through her heart, and made its nest there.

"What did they do to you?" It was Carmen's turn to drip malice.

"Nothing they don't do to most captives," Julia just shrugs, as if the question was answerable by common knowledge.

Fear grips Carmen's heart, and desperation. She drops her form and she approaches Julia with her hands reaching out for hers, "Come with us, we can fix this—"

But Julia slaps it away, scoffing at her face, "What makes you think I'm coming with you?"

"What? But, but you—"

"Carmen Sandiego, do not mistake me for a fool," Julia continues, and she doesn't stop, "I'm not the same person I was before that I would run back willingly into your arms after what you have done. I'm not weak anymore as to warrant your protection. I'm not Julia, and I most definitely am not yours."

Julia spits those words with solid conviction, believing in them with all of her being as she pushes Carmen to a corner, "So you can go back into saving your precious artifacts, not with me holding you back."

"You remember a lot, I doubt they wiped your mind—"

Julia laughs, "You're not listening to me," she fists Carmen's collar and tugs her down, face to face, so that she could see with her own eyes just how much Julia means everything she says, "I said, you mean nothing to me. And I advise you to take a mental note of that."

"Carmen! The diamonds!" Shadowsan yells from the corner, chasing after the diamonds that had ridden on the wrong tunnel.

Carmen could barely give a shit.

" _Julia_ ," she calls out, softly, a desperate whisper for a person she had lost since long ago. Julia ignores her completely. Now that their mission was done, there was no reason to stick around, even though she did want to just so she could see for herself what Carmen looks like as her heart breaks in two.

With one last sinister smile, Julia lets Carmen go. "Don't be sad," she coos, albeit mockingly, "You'll be seeing more of me soon."

Julia jumps into the mine cart along with Tigress and El Topo, feet dangling by the edge, sporting a foreign smile on her lips.

_"Au revoir!"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to my editor, me, for staying awake till 4 in the morning to edit this. You deserve a cupcake.
> 
> Update: I reuploaded this chapter again because for some reason all my italicized words just decided to disappear. Anyway, I fixed it, so there we go.


	3. It's a Curse and it's Growing; You're a Pond and I'm an Ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do you know, Julia doesn't like Vile either

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so how are ya'll feeling now that Carmen Sandiego is officially over? 'cause I'm still crying 
> 
> Liston to [this playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/567xC12J1rkVQlWJqKz7Et?si=znDeec9QTbKGNtrRE2ABMA) while reading ;)

"Good Job, Noir. Words cannot describe how pleased we are with you tonight."

Professor Maelstrom applauds. He stands there along with the other vile faculty members, probably the oldest among them (Julia doesn't care to ask), lips wide in a triumphant smile. His brows arch, and she should probably listen to what he was saying instead of staring at his eyebrows.

"Thank you, truly," Julia replies with a respectful bow, as respectful as one could be knowing that they were nothing but a tool to be used and taken advantage of however they see fit.

There's no point in being bitter over it. If she had done nothing but brood about her current station in life, she would've achieved nothing.

She doesn't find it applaudable, however, that while these professors sit on their marbled thrones and admire their reflections on glass tables, their agents are out there risking their lives for another poor artifact to foot their bills. It's typical of any organization, she guesses. There shouldn't be any surprise to find out that an evil organization operates like your regular business organization.

"Ever since we placed you toe to toe against Carmen Sandiego, our missions have been more successful."

_That name._ Julia hears it all the time. A devil's reminder that she was not here on her own accord. That she was _placed_ here, and she was _forced_ to work here, all because she was that name's biggest exploitable weakness. And exploit that weakness, they did.

"You did take quite a while to handle her this time," Dr. Bellum adds, her face turned away from her and typing away on her computer screens. "I sure do hope you're not slipping," she warns, sparing a single glance at Julia before returning to work, "You know what happens when you slip."

"Carmen Sandiego and I were only talking, Doctor, nothing else."

"No doubt you tormented her this time around, as you usually do, am I right?" Coach Brunt stares her down, hands balled to a fist on top of their obnoxious glass table.

"Yes, Coach, nothing more, nothing less."

Silence. Silence as all four of the higher-ups stares her down from her position in the center of the empty room. Some with scrutinizing eyes, like that of Dr. Bellum and Countess Cleo, scanning for cracks in her conviction, ready to throw her in the brainwashing chamber if she ever breathes an air of mercy around the red thief. Some with eyes of pride, Like that of Professor Maelstrom, and other eyes of indifference like Coach Brunt.

"Alright, you are free for the night then, Noir. Do enjoy your rest."

"Yes, of course, esteemed faculty."

With one last bow, she turns around to leave. Why she has to go and treat them like royalty was beyond her. To be completely honest, not many royalty today deserves to be treated like one.

Julia cares not for what the VILE Faculty thinks of her, nor her work during the job. She cares too little for their opinions to begin with, as she finds them all too knowledgeable only on the superficial level. No wonder Shadowsan left and switched sides. He took one look at these fools and decided he was better and wiser than all of them combined, and that he truly is.

It's a shame, Julia thinks, that all these people gather here to train and steal from nearly impenetrable structures all around the world, and they all crumble under the gaze of one red thief with an unhealthy obsession with the color red. They have made no significant progress with their plans until the day she worked among them. Can you believe that? A powerful organization was struck with ' _writer's block_ ' due to one woman.

Their original Head Quarters, destroyed. Their second had to be relocated, and they are crucially running low on money to fund the rest of their heists.

Julia walks the halls of VILE Head Quarters with her head held high. She strode down that hallway like the royalty she is, for carrying the organization on the small of her shoulders.

Graduated agents of VILE, once having completed their first caper, are entitled to their quarters. They have no say where that quarters would be, how big it is, or how extravagant it would look like, only that they are guaranteed a bed and room of privacy for themselves.

And Julia's? She hates hers with a burning passion.

The floor was the same obnoxious green color as the walls and the light that flickers above from time to time blare at her eyes any chance it gets. The mattress on her bed was too hard for comfort, and they were only allowed one pillow. One pillow! Can you believe it? The devils! They might as well just lock her up in a prison.

"Ugh," she groans as she enters, closing the door behind her.

_This place could use some flora,_ Julia thinks, but alas VILE doesn't allow their agents to grow plants in their quarters for some reason. Bookshelves, harmless and nothing more than just furniture, are to remain in the library, along with the books they are supposed to shelter. Why oh why can't Julia just get a few books for her leisure and read them in the silence and privacy of her room?

_Makes sense why everybody here seems like they haven't read a single book in their lives._

"It's penance," she mutters with a sigh, "I shouldn't complain too much. I mean, what would God say? Not that he would care."

Penance for what, you may ask? Well for what she was about to do right now, and what she has been doing for countless nights.

She continues towards the corner of her room, where a computer stands on a table, dead and silent. Behind the computer was a mess of tangled wires in all shades and colors, but mostly black, because color coding is a waste of time when you have more important things to do. Under the table was a single drawer, and in that drawer was a mess of files and papers of different origins. Tonight, Julia adds to that mess.

She pulls the chair back, earning her this scratching sound, before planting her weight on top and turning the computer on.

Computers aren't normally allowed within vile agent's private quarters, safety protocol, and all that, but you just need to earn a few favors here and there, pull some strings, and eventually, you'll get what you want. For some reason unknown to most, however, is that it is harder to pull some strings for bookshelves and a pile of books than it is for a computer. _This organization should pull itself together._

Julia pulls up a tab, "January 9, 2021. Paris, France, Louvre Museum, La Belle Ferronnière," she mouths as she types, her fingers gliding atop the keyboard with grace.

Every night, after a successful caper, she would pull up the same tab with its dull white background and type away every detail of the heist. From the date of occurrence, time of appearance on the location, time of extraction, what was stolen, how much it was, and everything in between. She likes to think it was a journal she was keeping, but she knows deep inside what it truly was.

Then every night she will forge several layers of encryption on each entry before uploading all of them on a personal cloud as well as the hard drive she had connected to the computer. Organized and clean, only to be stashed away on a removable tile just below the corner of the room.

_Why am I doing this, again?_

Why indeed. The reason was lost to herself as well. There was one time, after her first-ever caper in Angola, that she sat down in front of a table with one empty piece of paper and a pen. She stared at that paper for a hefty amount of time. She remembers that night clearly because, for the first time in a long while, she was free to do what she wanted with the cards given before her. She did not understand the reason that made her do so, but she wrote something.

Word after another, sentence after another, and paragraphs after paragraphs. Soon she realized that she was describing what had transpired in those mines. From the rocks that crumble delicately, to the way her windpipe momentarily closed up due to strong dashing boots of red. How the diamonds glinted under the harsh light of their getaway vehicle, and how cold the breeze felt as they rode down the desert.

Long before she knew it, it has become a routine. And what used to be written on a piece of paper, was now being typed away in a computer. And what had begun to be a journal, became a written record of all the wrongdoings she has committed after being forced to work here. A record of what she has done, and a record of what she hopes to atone for.

After safely stashing away the delicate information, Julia will proceed, like her nightly routine, to hack through several walls within the VILE's systems itself to find out just where and when they will sell off the goods, the who, and the how doesn't come too long after that.

Perhaps that was her old self trying to control the wheel. Trying to redeem a part of herself that she rejects with all tenacity, even though she was supposed to be wiped and demolished from memory.

_The Julia of the past sure sounds like a pushover._

But the Julia of the now does not mind the company.

Right here, right now, is a testament to the world that even Villains have standards, and no evildoers do evil because it is fun. Although it _is extremely enjoyable._

"They should hire more competent people here," Julia finds herself mumbling, scoffing once she got through the firewall once again for what seems like the hundredth time in a month, and she just learned how to hack through one from a dusty old book in the deepest corners of the library.

After that should be, _hmm._

Julia looks down at her wristwatch, _Oh I missed tea time._

“Player, come in.”

“I’m here Red.”

There are a few things you can call clever in this world. One of those things, old or new, is paintings. Bold strokes here and there, a splatter of color on a canvas, and a gateway to a world different from your own. Another one is music. There’s not any explanation to give justice to the feelings a random combination of notes can offer you. You cannot see it, but you know your soul trickles a drop of passion every time you hear it.

You could hardly call this clever— not even smart, this was not that. Heck, it was just a bundle of rejected ideas. An amalgamation of bad ideas after the other that was stitched together in all the wrong ways just so it could come off as coherent. But it was all the crew could come up with.

A tracker would be too on the nose. Vile was too smart for that. But guessing on the world map would be idiotic too, they might as well take a dart and shoot their shot on cardboard. So what other options do they have?

Ivy had concocted this new machinery. It was nothing impressive, and they doubt an 11-year-old somewhere in the world wouldn’t be able to make it, but it had propelled their plan to phase 3. Believe it or not.

It was this small chip. Small is an understatement, it's even smaller than a sim card, and its only job is to ping a signal once every hour or so to one connection, which was Player. Sending a signal from somewhere around the world requires the trip from a local tower to the satellite they have floating in space, and anybody could track that signal. But make it sparse enough and they might just fool a bunch of VILE operatives into thinking it was entirely random. Once it had sent at most 4 signals, it would just self-combust. It’s too tiny to notice, the explosion. Not even a sting.

The problem with such a piece of backwater machinery is that it is way too inaccurate. To trade stealth with accuracy? Carmen’s crew couldn’t afford that, nor could they afford to be found either.

So what did they do? They played the long game.

“You can see the signals right? What do you think?” Carmen speaks, looking down on a wide led screen with the world map in green. The red dots would be the signal from the tiny chip, and there are at least 30 of them on the map. All splayed across the map like tiny red M&Ms, random at first glance, but patternable at second.

“Nothing's certain yet, but we’re close.”

Player has been trying to decipher what those red dots might mean for them, and he's been doing so for months. The more dots, the more accurate the reading is, and the more accurate the reading is the less risky this rescue mission would be. As if they could still keep calling that, if Julia wanted to be rescued she would've told them a long time ago.

No, they do not plan on rescuing her. It's the opposite. Carmen Sandiego has been all over the world, speaking countless languages, and experiencing different mixes of cultures first hand, but the girl has never tried her skill in the act of kidnapping. This would be the first.

Soon, VILE’s secret Head Quarters wouldn’t be so secret anymore, and Carmen will be a step closer to ' _rescuing_ ' Julia.

“That means you’ll have to meet her again for a few more times,” Zack says, somehow his tone implies mourning. Mourning for a soul that digs its own grave trying to save another from theirs. He knows every time Carmen comes back from a nightly rendezvous with her enemy, she leaves a part of her sanity with her. He’s afraid, and he believes most of them are, that there will be nothing of Carmen Sandiego left to save the world.

“I’m fine with that.”

“Carmen.” Shadowsan gives her a stern look, “You have to rest.”

“Yes, I was planning on that. After this—“

“You know very well that I do not mean later,” he adds, tone even firmer.

There was no arguing with him, she knows this. It would be like arguing with a statue or debating with a party that has no intention of listening nor opening their minds to the opinions of others. The latter may be more infuriating but they are just the same. _A waste of time_.

"Fine," she sighs, defeated.

"Don't worry Red, I'll hit you up if I find something useful."

Carmen leaves the room, and all eyes watch her do so until finally, she disappears to the second floor. That doesn't mean the job is over though. There are many tasks to accomplish and tracking a single agent's whereabouts is one among many. You might as well tell a shark to stop swimming because Carmen Sandiego has whipped up a better use of her time.

Who needs rest? Not her. Strap her to bed and exorcise her demons, she would still walk to do what needs to be done.

With a goal, she set her sights on, and a bed she ultimately decides to ignore, Carmen Sandiego slips in her red coat one more time and jumps outside the window, right into the mouth of the city of romance, Paris. 

She traverses its streets via rooftops, a bit unconventional and suspicious even Carmen agrees, but she's not here to stroll. Plus it gets you from point A to point B faster. The smell of restaurants and the sound of chatter from down below orients her, and she tries not to get too involved in a stranger's meager conversation about their mother-in-law. _I doubt that's not juicy._

She retraces her steps back to the museum where a heist had just transpired, and where right now about 5 police cars had surrounded the entrance and about 10 more journalist-filled vans had circled like vultures on a rotting carcass.

She stands ever so menacingly on the edge of a rooftop where it overlooks the entirety of the museum, all its security camera blind spots, all its possible entry points, and all its possible exit points. She analyzes and she scrutinizes, and one by one, albeit through trial and error, her suspicions have been proven correct.

French detectives from all over the country flood in to find out what happened and the premises have been rendered impassable with blinding yellow police tape. Red and blue lights, but no sirens. And no chaos. The blue tapes planted on the ground and the walls were a mark of where Julia had let loose with her gun and in every one of them was a bullet, all at least a meter away from any other painting in the vicinity.

For a thief as menacing and so far has a successful approach to their job, Le Femme Noir has not—and Carmen means it— _has not_ damaged a single artifact in that museum aside from the one she just stole, though she doubts she wasn't careful with that too. Not a scratch, even though she had let loose with that 44 Magnum, not even a trace of gunpowder on them.

The pattern begins to unravel itself before Carmen as she connects the dots in her head. She had deliberately run in front of paintings, _trying_ to get her to hit at least one, by accident or not it doesn't matter. But she noticed, just a week ago, that the agent was more focused on _avoiding_ the artifacts than hitting her.

Blame it on the girl's careful nature or whatever you please, but if Carmen's suspicions were correct, that means that she still harbors feelings of importance towards those artifacts. She knew it the moment the girl had backflipped mere inches before the painting to protect it from _Carmen._

_She is not completely gone. I knew it._

Carmen can work with that. 

"Red." A voice calls out from her ears, tired.

_The cover's been blown, oops._ Carmen would recognize that disappointed sigh from a mile away. "What's up, Player?" she says, trying her best not to tease the kid.

"We agreed that you would rest after the caper and we'll handle the rest—"

Yes, they did agree on that, but why rest when you can discover small alleys and go on an adventure in Paris? Carmen wants to argue, and she _needs_ to if she wanted to stay even a minute more to spy, but there was no arguing with Player. The boy's concerned for her, and only a few years ago she needed a truck-full of concern to last her the last of her adolescent days.

"Hey, remember that thing I told you last week? About Julia caring—"

"—about the artifacts more than herself? Yeah, how could I forget? You woke me up at 3 in the morning to theorize," Player answers with what Carmen could hear was a grin on the corners of his lips.

"Well, I revisited the museum just to make sure, from a safe distance of course. Guess what I found out."

Player sighs at the mic again, the harder the sharper it is on Carmen's conscience. Not that she listens to that anyway.

"What?"

"I was right. Player, _I was right_. She avoided damaging the artifacts on purpose, it wasn't all a coincidence."

"Yeah, but she still stole one? Surely that outweighs all the other effort she makes in protecting others if that truly is what she is doing."

"But—"

"Carmen, _please_. You need to let yourself rest. Even if it's just one night." _well that's new._ Player rarely calls Carmen by her name.

He was right, deep within her, Carmen knew that Player was making much more sense than whatever she was saying right now. But if there's a chance, a _slight chance,_ a small clue that Julia is still there, she has to know. She _needs_ to know, for her own sake. 

"I just," Carmen sighs, "I want to be sure."

"We all do, Red. Now go back before Shadowsan realizes you're missing and give us _all_ a huge scolding."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need a new hyper fixation guys, I can't last a day without obsessing over something


	4. Cracks in the Pavement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I didn't get something wrong about a whole ass country. Anyway, have fun!  
> I don't have a playlist for you this time, so you can listen to whatever you like!

The Philippines. When was it that Carmen Sandiego had last stepped foot in Southeast Asia? Too long. it's been too long. Scratch that, when was the last time she's stepped foot in a tropical country situated in the middle of the pacific? She can't even remember. Has she ever?

The country is a far cry from what you expect an Asian country to be like. First and foremost, it speaks the language of Filipino, which is not a language in and of itself but more like an umbrella term for the 120 to 187 different languages in the country, dialect or not. You might think that it's not so different from a typical country, but walk the streets of Manila and you will hear at least three different languages spoken in one sentence. Spanish, English, and Tagalog in three seconds.

Carmen could speak two of those languages, but without the third one to piece it all together, it just sounds like a puzzle lain out on a table, refusing to make sense.

It has churches. Many, many, _many_ Catholic churches. Some dating back to the 1800s, when the country was still in the mighty clutches of the Spanish Empire. Which would explain its Latin feel throughout the country, where Spanish-looking houses are built, and most street and city names are in Spanish, and why it is the biggest country in Asia where the majority of its people are Catholics. Only second to The Vatican City.

It's interesting, Carmen wagers, if Julia were here she would've dropped at least several trivia about the country already. From its political nature, civil unrest, extrajudicial killings, down to its hotpot of culture and exquisite cuisine. All of the things that make the girl giggle in joy, and shudder in amazement.

"Why a church ruin?" Zack enters their hotel room, snapping Carmen out of her routine sightseeing from the balcony. "It's a ruin, what can you steal from a ruin—is anybody catching my drift here?"

"And yet most of our missions are conducted in ruins, how ironic," Carmen answers, she enters back to the room where Chase was collapsed on the bed, snoring like there's no tomorrow, where Shadowsan is nowhere to be seen, and where Ivy is typing away at her laptop. _Family outing,_ what a convenient excuse. They look nothing like each other, and just walking around they attract unwanted attention, but there's no other word to fit what this ragtag bunch was, _a family._

And somewhere out there, a family lies in wait, to pounce on her own.

"VILE dropped off an important suitcase here, filled with their recent stolen artifacts from Mongolia. They thought it would throw us off their trail, and an agent will pick it up tonight. We just need to steal it back." Carmen summarizes the plan to be as short as she could.

She picks up her coat from the hanger and deftly puts on her red boots. Too bad the mud outside will taint it, but it's nothing a little cleaning won't fix.

"Do we know where it is?" Ivy adds from the corner, looking up from her laptop, "It's all tall grass and trees here."

"No, only the VILE agent knows where it is. But that's okay, we can just steal it once they've dug it up from... wherever it is."

She seems confident for a thief who does not know where her target is, but there is some courage to be reaped from misplaced confidence. Some say if you need to be confident, just fake it, and people won't be able to tell the difference. And for most, a fake is better than nothing at all. Carmen looks down on her wristwatch and smiles, _Showtime._

"Zack, wake Chase up, the agent will drop down in a few minutes and we need to be there to tail them."

Zack obliges, all with a devilish grin on his lips. Though unconventional, jumping on a sleeping person in a bouncy bed is a sure-fire way to wake them up, and not only that, it's also a sure-fire way to piss someone off. Zack wakes Chase up, not without a smack on the head right after though.

"Qu'est-ce que tu fais!" Chase jumps up with a jolt.

Zack cackles at his face, "Wake up sleepy head, mission's about to start."

"Let's go"

Their cover was this tall tower, _a ruin._ It was supposed to be a church tower where the bell should be ringing songs and glory during masses, but the rest of the church was nowhere to be seen. Under the soil, they step on right now, is a very old and decomposing catholic cross, and multiple statues of saints. And somewhere around it, a suitcase of equally ancient figures, if not more.

The fields they were in were fertile, and you could tell just by walking on them. It has been nurtured and cared for by mother nature itself, and the sky that kisses its horizon with every set of the sun, it's color a mixture of orange, pink, and purple, a delightful explosion to the eyes, were laid bare to its audiences. Carmen doesn't mind waking up to that sky after her siestas.

Something, somewhere, is amiss though, and the crew takes note of it. If you had looked once, you would miss it, but in the sky was a black silhouette of a parachute, gliding down from a plane that had flown by. _Bingo._

"Zack," Carmen mentions, and he nods, stepping on the gas of their jeep into the direction of the parachuting agent, Chase clinging on for dear life just behind them.

"Did you ever take a driving test or something?" Chase yells against the harsh wind.

"No, but you did and I'm still a better driver than you," Zack releases an ungodly cackle and Carmen only giggles after him. Burn.

"Oh haha."

They spent the rest of the ride just exchanging banters and roasts, sometimes, when Carmen has something to add, she would just do so after all the evil cackling had come and gone, which normally takes a few seconds, and most of them are from Zack. It's these small moments that she leans back and enjoys, all the while gazing at the rice fields that stretch as far as the eye can see. Too bad they were on their way to commit a crime.

"Ivy?" Carmen speaks into her earpiece.

"Haven't got a visual yet, Carm. The trees are thick over there," she responds. Ivy was tasked with keeping track of where the agent was if mishaps ensue and Carmen and Chase lose sight of them, but that would only work if the agents were out in the open and not under the protection of thick bushes and leaves.

Not a problem. If they wanted to reach the ruin, they would have to leave the forest.

"Stop here Zack," Carmen commands. As soon as the jeep has reached a stop, she jumps out and continues further on foot. With Chase. A bad choice of partner when stealth is a priority but Shadowsan refused she do a mission all on her own once again, so it was out of her hands.

"Devineaux, your shoes are—are you angry at the ground?"

Chase looks back at his... Well, he hates that this is the way things are but it's true. He looks back at his _boss_ , both brows raised, an expression that screams innocence, "What?"

"I asked if the ground has displeased you today, what with you stomping so hard on it."

Chase continues to stare, and Carmen sighs defeated, "Your footsteps, they are loud, the agent might hear us."

How he was recruited by ACME and gained a higher authority and clearance than Julia, a woman with the most cunning mind, was beyond her, but an important mission such as this will not be thwarted by the incompetence of a single man, not when he has been successful in thwarting many different missions in ACME by simply _being there_. Especially not when Carmen has something to say about it.

"t'was my boots, they are heavy," Chase says in a hushed voice.

"It's okay, be mindful next time."

Leaves shuffle harshly, twigs and sticks break, and hushed chatter crawls from a clearing. Carmen frowns, well that was strange. Player said there will only be one agent on this mission. It's either that agent is having a conversation with themselves, which sounds more entertaining than Devineaux bigfoot-like footsteps, or there's another person there with them.

Upon closer and longer inspection, it turns out, there is. And from the looks of it, they're going in opposite directions.

Carmen's not going to take her chances.

"Follow that guy," she motions to the one wearing a baseball cap, "And I follow this one," she says to the other wearing a large coat. Honestly, a coat, in this weather? Carmen can't argue, she's wearing one right now, but a black coat? Really?

They go through with the plan. Be discrete, stick to the shadows, and do not, by all means, get caught. Stealth 101. She used to be the loser of that class. Always the first to get caught, always the last to leave, and always the one to stay for remedial classes. She does not have it in her to mask her presence, no. She always needs to be bold, flamboyant, always the person with surprises. Such a person will never make it as a renowned thief in the real world. Or so Shadowsan claims.

She guesses they'll test her skills this time once again.

She follows the coated figure through the woods, in the opposite direction of the church ruins. She should rule out the possibility that this person is a decoy, but the possibility that the one heading for the church ruins could also be a decoy is there. This one moves like... Carmen's frown deepens. This one moves like they're having a stroll in the park. Like they're here to bird watch, walk their dog, and eat some corn on a cob like your normal Sunday morning. What is the—

Then the figure disappears.

It was faint, but Carmen saw its silhouette move to the—

"Don't be so surprised," a voice, familiar and sweet, speaks behind her, "Stealth was never your thing."

_Julia._

"Hello again, Carmen Sandiego."

_Fuck._ So she _was_ following the decoy. Information about their mission here must've been leaked, or VILE has finally decided on more than just plan A. They've been more fail-proof ever since Julia started working among them, she guesses she has to thank her for that.

"I don't suppose you're on your way to the artifacts?" she says with an aggravated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose to ease the headache.

Julia smiles, "No. I am here for one purpose only, Ms. Sandiego, _one,_ " She tucks both hands in the pocket of her coat and leans against one leg. All that confidence, and all that fire burning within the woman, Carmen never doubted Julia's tenacity and wits for one second. "That is to lure you away from the rest of the fiasco."

"Of course," Carmen rolls her eyes, "Congratulations."

"I don't recommend running back there though, why not enjoy the soft afternoon breeze right here at the Pearl of the Orient Seas. Want to know why they call the Philippines that?"

Julia circles her delicately, like gloves to freshly cut diamonds. And like watchful eyes of a thief on her target, Julia anticipates as well. The tiny movements, they could mean anything. She doesn't know when Carmen would engage with her in a conversation, or run back to the direction of her team. So with those eyes through a pair of glasses, she looks.

"Enlighten me then, Julia."

Julia's smile widens, "The term was coined by their Spanish Colonizers. Perla del Mar de Oriente, they used to call it. Back in 1751."

Carmen ignores the way her heart leaps at the way Julia effortlessly pronounces ' _Perla del Mar de Oriente_ ', the string of foreign words sliding smoothly off her tongue.

"His name was Juan J. Delgado, and he was a Jesuit missionary. He was the first to call the Philippines by the romantic name. And just like the name, the country that does not disappoint. It is one of the producers of Golden South Sea pearls, and uncoincidentally, here is where they also found the biggest pearl on the face of the earth."

Carmen hums, visibly intrigued by the little detail, but she doesn't dare show too much at once. The reaction did not pass Julia by though, and it only encouraged more facts to drip off of her lips.

"The Philippines was under Spanish Colonialism for more than 300 years, and its name came from the then king of Spain King Philip II, but they are Asians through and through. Had a taste of pancit yet?"

Julia appears behind the red thief, hand drawing lines of questionable purpose on the girl's stiff shoulder, analyzing the girl's auburn locks by gliding her fingertips against it. _It's as soft as it looks,_ she admits, but she stops herself from brushing her fingers through it more. Eventually, her eyes catch the clasp of Carmen Sandiego's lovely blue pendant.

"No," Carmen answers, curt and short, "But I would love to."

"The locals will provide you with one if you ask, and it's at the cost of a cent—"

In a blink of an eye, Carmen's hand grasp Julia's delicate wrists with vigor, pulling it away from where it plans to unclasp the pendant. "Do not even think about it," She sneers.

Julia only laughs at the false sense of bravado, "I see. So I can touch you all I want, but the pendant is off-limits. Understood."

Carmen twists Julia's arm, pushing her closer to the ground and placing her in a position where she'd be daring to speak more nonsense. To be honest, a little pain doesn't destroy pleasure, does it? So Julia doesn't stop. When has she?

"You cannot touch that," Carmen says firmly, tightening her hold on Julia's arm, "Do not take advantage of my feelings for you, Julia."

"As I said, you talk to a dead woman. You might as well be having a conversation with a different person," Julia responds, grin yet to be wiped, "but please, tell me more of these so-called ' _feelings_ ', they sound interesting."

Carmen takes her foot and kicks Julia's knee down on the ground, causing her to lose balance and fall chest first. "I'm sure you know what these feelings are first hand, _Noir_."

"Finally," Julia, despite the sharp pain to her shoulder and knee, flipped herself on her back to look back at Carmen's glorious chocolate brown eyes, "She notices me— _oof_."

"If this is another one of your plans to distract me I swear," Carmen drops down to one knee and lifts Julia by the collar of her shirt. She doesn't care if the rock on her knee was digging uncomfortably against her skin, nor does it bother her that her red fedora had long fallen off her head and to the ground below. This woman in front of her. The one who smiles subjectively touches seductively and speaks with harsh words and yet soft tones. This woman is the love of her life.

Not just anybody. _This_ woman.

"And if it was, then I would've been successful thus far," Julia says with a cheeky grin, "but alas, it is not."

Those eyes. Carmen searches and hopes to see a glimpse, _just one,_ of Julia. The real one. The one who would pull her in for a hug after tiring days; cooks her exquisite food, and the one she has promised her whole life for. _Just one glimpse is enough._ Carmen stares, and she stares intently.

"Do not look at me like that," Julia frowns. Something has irked her off, but Carmen can't place just what.

"Like what?"

" _Like that!_ "

Julia does not want to be seen with such eyes, nor look upon with such an expression. A look of desperation, a look of exasperation, and a look of well-earned defeat, those were the ones she could drink up gladly. But whatever that is, _whatever_ those eyes were trying to say, right at this moment, it sends a sharp blooming sting somewhere deep within Julia's chest. And she does not like that.

_Like you want me,_ Julia wants to say, but she bites her cheek instead.

"This is ridiculous, I am going back," Carmen lets her go, back to the ground. She stood up to her height, towering above the other girl under the harsh glare of the moon.

"You are not going anywhere," Julia commands, but we all know that command is as good as nothing because Carmen had already taken her first step back towards the Church Ruins.

"Stop, I said!" Julia tries again, and again it falls on deaf ears.

"When I say stop..." Julia stands up, and yes her knees were still pretty much having a bad day, but she pushes through, and she pulls Carmen back by the pendant, turning her around to face her, "You stop."

"Get your hands off my pendant," Carmen seethes at her, almost immediately.

Julia was taken aback, slightly. It was just slightly, but she felt a crack pop up somewhere in her resolve. As she gazes up _hateful_ eyes, ready to snap her wrist if she continues to hold on more, or worse, pop her shoulder clean if she dares to pull it free from Carmen's neck.

Was it fear? No, it wasn't fear. Julia knows what that feels like. This is not fear. If so what is this? What is this that quakes her bones, that shakes her legs, and loosens her hold? Piercing cold eyes, and all of a sudden Julia was frozen there. Solid. Still, she doesn't stop. She won't let Carmen see the crack in her resolve, not now.

"I will not repeat myself, _Noir._ Get your fucking hands off my pendant."

It was harsh, perhaps a bit too harsh, because a memory begins to unfold within the depths of Julia's mind. That horrid, _horrid_ memory under the dim lighting of torch fire. One that she has cried sleepless nights for, and begged the Gods to wipe away. It stings her very eyes right now, and it threatens to break free and make a mess of everything, but she forces it down.

"Make me—"

A hand to her throat. Julia did not see it coming, but there was nothing she could have done. It was there, and it was _gripping._

"You have no idea how much you are taking out of me right now," Carmen begins, "You are making me hurt the body of the woman I hold dearest to this world, but I swear to God if you do not _let go_ of my pendant—"

Julia hates it. Julia _despises it. How...How dare she? How dare she! Howdareshe—_ she grips the pendant tighter, and pulls it back sharply, threatening to pull it apart by the seams, and even as she chokes she does not dare to stop.

"Are you enjoying this?" she pulls a choked smile, enjoying the deep frown on Carmen's face, "Do I mean that much to you, that you grip me by the neck so passionately?"

"You do not deserve that pendant."

Carmen blinks. A breath put on hold as she searches Julia's face for any possible explanation, but there was none. No explanation, but there was a flash of something. An emotion. She doesn't know what it was, but she knows it was something overwhelming. How? Carmen asks herself, how can Julia keep so composed?

"You do not deserve to hang it around your neck. You do not deserve to speak highly of it. You do not deserve to even _see_ it," Julia continues.

"You have failed, Carmen Sandiego. Don't you see?" Julia grips the pendant tighter, and the sharp edges are starting to pierce her skin. "You have failed to protect me, the love of your life, and yet you carry that pendant around like a trophy— _like it's not a tribute to your failure!_ " a crack, Carmen could see it. _She's losing it._

"Julia—" Her eyes soften, and her hand left Julia's neck as quick as the wind that had passed them. Instead, she brings it ever so slowly to hold those quaking cheeks, but Julia shrugs them off.

"Don't you dare call that name!"

Finally, as a drop of blood hits the fertile soil below, the pendant snaps and lets loose from Carmen's neck. The small beads rattle, and they flow to corners unknown. Torn and fractured. Julia holds it tighter still, even though it had left its place around Carmen's neck, she holds it tight. She looks back at Carmen, who now looks at her broken. _So, so broken._

And maybe, just maybe, at that moment, Julia was too.

"You have lost the right to call that name the moment you chose an artifact over me, Carmen," she exhales shakily, "You lost."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	5. Leave Me to Dry from My Own Tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's up beautiful people? Hope ya'll are doing good!

No.

This will not do.

_I shouldn't have overreacted like that._

Julia's skin crawls as she walks the freezing hallways of VILE Academy. Her eyes wide and white, looking frantically from left to right. _They... They wouldn't know, right?_ She tries to convince herself, but as ironic as that is, she _feels_ like no amount of convincing will ever bring her comfort. And anytime, without warning, they will burst through her door and drag her back to that chamber.

That chamber with its dull and monotonic walls, cold tiles, and smells of chemicals. That chamber with that metal chair that stings her skin as leather straps are forced around her wrists and ankle, a helmet to finish her off. And then, right before her was a large white screen that blinks ever so randomly. She was left there, to anticipate, anxious, and sweating, when the electric shock would come and how strong it would be.

_I'm not going back there again._

She was not running, but her lungs heaved breathlessly and her heart pounds aggressively against its cage. Carmen has been the cause of her misery once, and god forbid Julia to let that happen again. All because of these... These bastard emotions that burst from somewhere— _where on earth do they come from!?_ Like flashes of lightning in a calm and cloudy night, it appears and it shackles her down, to be let there on her own devices—why is once never enough?

She hasn't noticed it yet, but Julia had already gripped the doorknob of her room and twisted it open. Mindlessly, and slightly quaking, she enters the solitude of her privacy. Where her dull bed stood, beside her dull cabinet, and her dull table with its dull computer.

Dull and without color. Just looking at it, she wants to vomit.

She closes and locks her door with a loud thud, her back hitting the wooden finish with such intensity Julia half-hoped it was enough to wake her up. Alas, it was in vain, and she could do nothing but slide down to her knees where she... She notices her hand.

It was still gripping tightly, on god knows what, and she looks like it as if it was some other life form who had found solace in her space as if it were not a part of her. It lies unmoving in her arm, gripping and...dripping?

Dripping red— _I'm bleeding...I'm hurt?_

Julia does not remember holding anything sharp, not her weapons nor her enemy's weapon. Had she been so out of it that she took a ride home after a successful caper with an injured hand and she felt nothing at all? Was it the adrenaline, she wonders? Or could it be the numbness that grows ever so steady within her with every set of the sun and break of the dawn?

She opens her hand, and she was almost surprised it moved when she commanded it to. It was... Well, it was _something,_ but it was so bloody and horrid looking that she just mistook it as some clot of blood. Upon closer inspection, she sees a little glint somewhere in there. It was so small she thought the gods were playing tricks on her again, but she moves just a tiny bit and it flashes again.

She pauses. Steadily, with only the beating of her heart to signify the passing of time, she wipes the object against her clothes. A mixture of red and dark brown it was that painted her lower shirt, but a small price to pay for... _Wait. It's blue...?_

The realization hit her like a bolt of lightning. The blue pendant—or at least what was left of it—gazes expectantly at her, _jeering and mocking._

Her hand quakes with newfound intensity as she stares back at the pendant's gaze. She had forcibly pulled it free from Carmen's neck, and she had grasped it so tight it cut through her skin. She hated that pendant, she _loathed_ that pendant that she oughta throw it into the sea where it belongs rotting and picked to pieces by marine biology...and yet, and yet here it was.

Here it was in her hand. Bloody, and gory, but still in one piece. The main gem that glinted against the bright light she hated so much, not even a scratch. _Whole, and safe._ Julia shudders, _In my hands._ Was she... Relieved?

_No._

_Stop._

There it was again. The headache threatens to split her brain and her skull in two.

She grips the gem tighter in her hands once again, doubling over on the ground in pain. Both from the open wound on her palm, and the mind-numbing headache. One part of her screams to throw the gem away. To hurtle that gem against the brick wall hard, again and again, until it shatters to unrecognizable debris, and Julia could finally begin to forget. But there's this other part of her that prays to hold it close. Hold it so impossibly close that she may never part with it again. Bury it deep and safe inside her chest where she would wear it like a charm for the times that she feels so, _so, alone._

Which part was more convincing? Which part should she follow?

_Why?_

She abhors the pendant for what it is, for what it means, and what it says so much that her blood boils from the mere sight of it. She abhors it... Does— doesn't she?

After all, it was the only physical connection she has with Carmen Sandiego. The last thing on this earth that binds their souls together—she gave that pendant to the other girl not as a gift but as a promise. A promise that no sooner, Carmen broke boldly in front of her.

She doesn't get it. _It hurts..._ Of course, it does, but why?

_Why can't I get rid of it?_

**Knock knock.** Julia flinches.

"Noir, are you there?" A rather stern-sounding voice speaks from the speaker next to the doorknob. It was so loud that it reverberated inside her room, or her room is _that_ empty it could be mistaken for a recording studio.

Julia doesn't know if she should answer. Because one, she is here, and two she is right _there_ , next to the door. But, to be frank, she does not want to see anybody right now. She no doubt looks like shit.

"Noir?" The voice calls out again, a bit louder this time. _Could it be the faculty? Did they notice? Je suis dans le pétrin, am I in trouble? Are... Could they be here to take me back—_

**_Knock knock knock._ **

****

The knocking became harsher. Because Julia swears she just felt it on her skin.

Hesitantly, and hiding her bloodied hand as well as the gem inside it behind her back, she opens the door. It creaks the more it was pulled, and the light was harsher outside than it was in her room. It felt like she just watched her hand pull a doorknob for years, from how fuzzy her mind was, and maybe her eyesight too. But it opens.

"Yes...?"

"Ahh, so you _were_ here," Countess Cleo stands tall before her, back straight, and no doubt another sparkling jewel or priceless article of clothing for her to steal. Countess Cleo glances down, and Julia couldn't help but freeze about from a frown that deepens on her face, "Child, are _you bleeding?_ "

_Oh_. Julia forgot about that.

"Go to the infirmary quickly, you are dirtying your floor—and please do come by my office after. I've got another mission for you."

The Countess leaves with evident disgust on her face at the sight of blood, but strangely enough, she does not seem concerned with anything else. Certainly not a faltering sense of duty and loyalty to the criminal organization. Julia is safe for now.

"Yes, Countess."

Julia forced her shit together. She took a shaky inhale, deep and slow, till it fills her lungs so much it twinges. She closes her eyes, and she counts to seven. After the seventh number, she exhales.

_Ignore it_ , she commands. Julia shoves the gem inside her pocket and she steps out into the glacial feel of the ghostly hallway, braving her harsh reality anew.

There was this one book Carmen has read shortly after her impromptu escape from Vile Academy. Its bound was worn and tethered by the edges, and the papers smell of age and dark academia, but its teal cover shines proudly evermore. There were tiny scribbles of random reminders and numbers inside, spread randomly across its pages, but the main text remains true and unchanged.

The Coffee Cries Foul, by Ymatruz. For a child that grew up with little to no mother-figure to look up to, the book had enticed her from the very start. And in a lot of the passages, Carmen has marked the writing of an Author that knows her fair share of losses, as well as victories. 

_'Winning isn't as sweet if you don't see an enemy cry',_ Ymatruz writes. And she was right. There was no greater victory than knowing you have not only bested a man, but also bested the way he had spent his time here on earth.

But whenever she remembers Julia, tears threatening to break and drop to her cheeks, brows furrowed in absolute protest, one hand dripping blood and the other holding the rope that leads up to the helicopter. She does not feel sweet.

Strange, isn't it? She was an enemy. She had destroyed the only memento Carmen has left of her other half. And she left the rice plains broken and shaking. Yet the sweetness was not there.

Bitter. It was bitter from the tip of Carmen's tongue to her throat. Bitter tasting looks of... She doesn't even know. Why did Julia look at her like that? Like she wants to hold her neck over the edge of a cliff, but wouldn't dare to let go?

Conflicted. She looked conflicted. Not solely because of her anger towards the red thief, but the conflict within herself as well.

Perhaps it was different. With Julia it always was. The bitterness she tasted that night was not the one she was familiar with. It wasn't the calming wake-up call of coffee in the mornings, or dark chocolate during stormy nights. It wasn't even the bitter medicine she used to take after that incident in Stockholm, no. It was worse. Because even now that she meanders and paces in her bedroom, it was there. She could still taste it.

And that pendant...

"I'm very sorry, Carm," Ivy's voice was tailored with mourning, and so were the expressions of the others, "We know how important that pendant is to you, and she just..."

Ivy did not want to add salt to the injury, so she refrained from detailing what happened, but a deduction could still be made from the current events. Though Carmen continues to deny it, and she will no doubt deny it this time as well, Noir is no ally, and she is not Julia. Not anymore. Sure they would love to give her the benefit of the doubt, as their leader has shamelessly done over and over again. They would love to believe she was still there, somewhere in there...

But with the facts that lie ever so plainly in front of them, only a fool would continue to deny themselves the opportunity to connect the dots. And only a fool would look at a fist to their face and think of it as unconventional affection. If it were a king cobra instead of the red flags in front of them, they wouldn't have hesitated to put it down.

And yet here they were, hesitating to the maximum of their abilities.

"She didn't destroy it," Carmen argues, voice a bit jumpy, but she argues still, "The lace may be destroyed but she kept the gem, she took it with her. I'm sure"

They understand—of course, they do— why Carmen defends Julia's intentions so vigorously, like a knight sworn to the protection of a royal. Even though those intentions were not for the best of the many, even if those intentions violate all morality the girl has built for herself, Carmen protects it. She grasps it securely in her hands, she holds it close to her chest, and though it bites her hand and venom rushes in, she holds a gun to whoever dares question it.

It was not to convince others. It has _never_ been to convince others. It was to convince herself. Because yes, until now, she was still in denial.

They all understood that. The stages of grief don't just pass anyone, it was tricky that way. Because sometimes, people never pass it at all. Sometimes people get stuck in certain stages like Carmen has been for a long time. 

But enough is enough.

"Carmen...maybe it's time to admit that Julia is—" Zack was soft and cautious with his words, but he flinched when Carmen looks at him sharply. He swallows, and he continues, "She's gone." 

"No, you guys didn't see it because you weren't there, but she cracked. I saw it, she did!" Carmen answers. She was so sure of it that she didn't even pay the earlier statement any mind.

"But you have to consider all possibilities, Carmen. You know you are better than this," Shadowsan was quick to turn her down. He knows his fair share of defeats and grief, which is why it is unbearable to watch the only thing close to a daughter he has to dig her own grave in the name of...in the name of a _'what if'._

"Okay," Chase adds, holding his hands up for attention, "So she cracked. I believe you."

Ivy, Zack, and Shadowsan give him a look as if to say ' _don't encourage her_ ', and it was obvious he understood it because he rolled his eyes and ignored them anyway. He faced away from the rest of the group and focuses solely on Carmen and her expectant expression.

"You do?"

"Well of course! This is my partner we are talking about, Ms. Sandiego. She's a lot more stubborn than you think," he says, "I do not believe she is all gone." 

Carmen visibly relaxes. He was an unexpected ally. From the beginning, she had doubts about his intentions and sudden alliance with her and her crew, how he jittered in the corner and typed endlessly on his phone. She thought he had come to them as a last resort to catch and apprehend her. But time proved her wrong. He may not be good at catching Carmen Sandiego, but he was relentless. And Carmen can count on that at least, even with the search for Julia. He was the only one who persevered. He was the only one.

"She would not have cracked without reason, I'm sure," Carmen's face fell to a frown, looking at Chase Devineaux who in turns look back at her, "What made her lose it?"

Carmen held her breath.

That was the problem, wasn't it? What made Noir crack? What made her remember something so unbelievably painful that she clasped a pendant tight against her palm, so tight that she bled. What made her feel such excruciating pain that bleeding felt like a gentle kiss? What was it?

Isn't it obvious? It was Carmen.

_She_ made her crack. Her mere presence. Her words, her solid conviction, _her audacity._ A pick on the ice, and fire to fuel. Two forces that attract, but never meet without misery. Like sodium to water, something was bound to explode. And Julia did it first, but Carmen was the one who lit the fire.

Like that night in the Egyptian tomb where a torch's heat sticks to her skin and sweat clinging to her clothes, where Julia stands on the edge of an endless void on one side, and the artifact on the other. Tears prickling her eyes, she was faced with another horrifying decision.

"Well...?"

Carmen's eyes snap back to Chase's, a panic in them. What was she supposed to say? Everything that happened thus far to Julia was all because of her. All that dried blood, sweat, and tears? It's nothing but the ink fate used to write this tragedy of a story, and you want to know what the most daring detail in that story was? It's that they made it so Julia continues to hold on.

It was a thread that she holds on to, fragile as silk, and yet she holds on.

But as Carmen stood there unyielding to the weight of her own emotions beckoning her knees to the ground like mermaid sirens to sailors, her heart aches. She was desperate. Can't they see? Right now as their eyes bore holes into Carmen's body, can't they see that she was a half of a whole? Empty, a shell of a woman she once was.

It's heavy. So maniacally heavy, this guilt that she carries.

"Hey, team," Player's voice cuts through the suffocating atmosphere like a heated knife to butter. It booms from the tv speakers, and at the same time the screen lights up with the map of the world in vicious green.

All heads turn up to look at the now active television, precisely at the blue point on the map that stands out from the rest.

"I might've figured out where their HQ is," he states proudly. Unaware of the current state of the people in the room, he looks around at the cameras confused as to why everybody was dead silent. The only thing that filled the room was the clacking of boots against wood—Carmen's, no doubt.

She had approached the television with bated breath, hands out and palms open, _reaching._ "Good job, Player."

There it was, etched in rich ocean hue, where the love of her life goes back to every night. Where she sleeps and wakes up. Where she eats her breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Where she exercises, reads her books about ancient history and anthropology. And the most important detail of them all, where she is imprisoned and forced to do the bidding of others.

The loudspeakers crackle for a split second before clearing out, "It turns out, that last mission was exactly what we needed to complete the puzzle."

Carmen drags her nimble finger to where the blue dot was. The way it flashes on the screen as if to challenge and provoke her. She had made a grave error in calculation. She had made a grave error that had caused her and her lover's sanity.

A voice cackles within her mind. I _t's all your fault,_ it says. 

That nimble finger folded in on itself and tightened into a fist. Carmen growls at that dot. _All this time I thought they took her to some isolated place on earth._

"Check our schedules, when is the next mission due?" Carmen faces the cameras. A sudden shift in her mood, the others in the room looked at her as if she had just transformed into an alien in front of them, but they did not dare get in her way. Her voice was sharp, and her command even sharper.

"In a week or so and, we're in luck because they're located in the same country. Scotland"

Carmen's blood boils. _They never relocated._

_“Pack up, We’re leaving.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, kudos and comments are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!


	6. Rome wasn't Built in a Day, but it Burned in One.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo Wazzup, how are ya'll doing this not-so-fine-and-meh-at-best day?

Maybe it was the chill, or maybe it was the rumbling in her stomach, but Carmen could not feel her fingers. She could not feel the leather finish of her coat, not the metallic kiss of her weapon wrapped nicely against her palm, and not the rough volcanic stone walls as she makes her way up the extravagant but lost to time stairs of Edinburgh Castle in Scotland.

She looked around, the clear skyline above and the grassy field below, the air that comes from the north that bashed against her caramel skin senseless, and she shivered. She was way too underdressed for this. Scotland was not cold, compared to other places, but it was not _warm_ either. Maybe it's because of the altitude, but she swears it's that _dampness_ on the air that adds to the chill.

"Update, Player," she speaks to her earpiece having reached the top of one of Edinburgh Castle's roofs.

"I have spotted three VILE agents, and..." Player's voice drawled off to the side for a bit, looking at a picture of a certain close-acquaintance-turned-evil hiding behind the shadows. There was no doubt Carmen will chase after her once again, like _she_ was the treasure—of course, in her eyes, there's a high chance of it being so. However, he cannot sit in front of his computer and lie to Carmen.

"...and Julia."

There came no words after the mention of the name, but Player was smart enough to think what Carmen's next step would be. "Carmen. I know you're planning something, but please... I hope you know what you're doing..."

Edinburgh is one of the last few standing fortified places in Europe. Donning an advantage being placed atop a high rock, it has served to be a Royal Residence, Fortress, prison, and even military garrison all in its lifetime. The structure itself has a rich history aside from the residents who lived and died in it, and now a designated tourist spot, the Edinburgh Castle has been maintained and taken care of to preserve History.

Julia Argent was by no means a religiously inclined fellow, even though both of her parents were born and raised Catholic. She loved the intricacies of ancient histories, clashing and dividing cultures, as well as the evolution of different religions all too much to devote her time to worship an omnipotent over-seer, or many.

This palace was where Queen Margaret died, later established as a Saint by the Pope under the name of Saint Margaret of Scotland, or Margaret of Wessex.

From what Julia can remember, Saint Margaret of Scotland was the patron saint of a lot of misfortune-stricken individuals. From the falsely accused, to orphans. She wonders if, even if she were only Catholic by paper and not by practice, she could ever begin to look up to this... _saint_.

...

She laughs, out loud. Her voice ringing out through the empty halls of the palace, all accompanied by nothing but the clack of her heels on the volcanic rock floor...however old it may be.

_Me, looking up to a saint?_ She might as well try her skills as a comedian in some pub in Europe if she were to seriously think about it. There's no doubt, with all the atrocities she has made and has allowed to be done, she'd burn the moment she steps inside a place of worship.

Oh, how God must despise her right now...

"Ms. Argent!" a voice booms from behind her.

Julia rolls her eyes. She'd recognize that obnoxious voice anywhere. From its consistent yammering to its blatant disrespect for culture and history. She could step on his throat right now, break it into smithereens so he may never open that mouth of his or talk again. Better yet, why doesn't she just take her knife and cut his tongue—

Julia blinks.

... _What?_

"I've finally caught you!" Chase says, his excitement getting the best of him yet again. He runs towards the black-coated agent, his loud steps a dead give away for his position behind Julia.

She turns to stare blankly at him, "Yet, Agent Devineaux," she corrects, "I'm glad to see you're still as _noisy_ as ever."

"You're glad to see me, Ms. Argent?" Chase breams widely, missing the eager disdain in Julia's voice... _And words._ He hesitated to grab his gun—a weapon he was, to Carmen's ultimate surprise, _highly_ skilled at—, more like he refused to. He kept it safe and undrawn in its holster by his hip.

Julia frowns, "Now why would I _ever_ be delighted to see you again?" she asks, nothing but disgust on her face. She seemed reluctant on drawing her own set of weapons, but it has little to do with fairness.

"I'm your partner! Chase Devineaux, did they wipe that off your brain?"

"Dear God, you're dumber than I thought."

Julia has doubts. About this man's skills in combat against her. If he was ever the same man she had seen and left in ACME, then he will be no match for her. Not even close. He will lose without even getting to land a _fingertip_ at Julia's raven black hair. But if he had been working with Carmen and her highly skilled trainer, then he just might hold his own against a fight.

This will not be the same as fighting Carmen. Julia pities that quite a considerable bit. There will be no spark, no excitement, no _thrill._ She will not see that same despair nor that desperation, not even that anger and distaste as she had witnessed a week ago from that faithful encounter in the Philippines. It'll just be a waste of her goddamn time.

There will be no fun in tormenting this one.

"I have important work to do," Julia rolls her eyes, _and an enemy I would love to beat to the ground._ Julia's eyes wander to the side, through the big glass windows and onto the roofs of the castle. All in an attempt to catch a glimpse of a certain Crimson Ghost.

"That, I may have to intervene in, Ms. Argent." Chase finally draws his gun, a Glock pistol _. Ugh_ , Julia instantaneously cringes _, that gun really isn't my style._

"You and I both know your passion for artifacts and history, why are you running around _stealing_ them?"

Julia was the first to make a move. "Certainly not so you could question me however you like."

Chase was successful in blocking her kick with his bare arm, pushing her back the same time as she kicks off, but he falters a bit and loses his footing for more than a second. Julia's got to admit, he's got guts to block a kick from boots with heels with his bare arm and pull it off. He has improved, and she fails to maintain a poker face from this.

"Has Shadownsan entertained the idea of training you?" Julia asks with an intrigued smirk.

Chase has yet to shoot her with the gun that he grips ever so firmly in his hands, and the girl was curious to see just how much she can prod him to do so before he finally breaks. He has always acted on emotions and instinct rather than rationality and intellect. What more, his instinct _sucks_.

"Only after a month of incessant pestering," Chase replies with an equally smug smile, "Care to tell me what you broke in here for this lovely afternoon?"

Julia rolls her eyes. Finally, she whips out her favorite 44. Magnum Revolver and aimed it square for Chase's head. Before she could pull the trigger though, and believe her when she says there's nothing in this world she wouldn't do to wipe that grin off of Devineaux's face, she hesitated.

A brow has made its way up, and now Julia was looking at Chase through the sight of her gun and...scrutinizing his choice of clothing.

"Since when did you start wearing turtlenecks?" She asks, genuinely confused.

"You'll have to come home with us if you ever want to find out. It's quite a long story, and it involved at least three other people—"

Julia frowns and fires. Each one, Chase has managed to evade purely due to his luck that never seems to drain. He sidesteps, he ducks, and he jumps, but no matter how lousy it all was, Julia could not land a single hit. Her rounds had gone from a lovely and confident six to just one, and she does not like to reload in front of an overly active audience.

"Continue to get under my nerves and you shall never return to your _home_ ," Julia adds an extra drip of disgust on the word. Just the imagery of them huddled up in a comfortable fireplace, exchanging jokes and banters, laughter all around...it makes her skin crawl. Why? She does not know.

Was it jealousy perhaps?

Julia scoffs. Of all the people in this world, she envies the life of this man? This man who looked down on her in every waking moment, who shoots her down as quickly and as swift as he fails most of his missions. This man? No. Julia could do better than that.

_Impossible. There's no way I want to go back to such a life..._

"I just want to talk, _Julia_ ," Chase says with a soft smile and an even softer look. That was the last thing he was ever to pull before Julia had rushed in front of his face and kicked him down to the floor.

That ridiculous name. Over and over again. From the mouths of her enemies like they _own_ it. Like they _created_ it. Like they _adore_ it. Now Chase has truly succeeded in pissing her off to the high seas.

She kicks Chase's pistol away to the corner, the chunk of metal scraping the stone floor as it went. She made sure to look directly at his dark brown eyes, so dark even under the light of the sun. He holds his stare, and Julia almost wanted to commend him for that, but alas her nerves have gotten the best of her as she points her revolver down at the head of a man who doesn't even try to beg for his life.

Maybe there was a reason why she had a bullet left in her revolver. Perhaps it was meant to be that she stands before him like this, boots pushing down against his chest, keeping him still and unmoving as he stares at Julia's eyes as well as the muzzle of her revolver.

"I've had enough of your mindless words," She says, brows now furrowed into an egregious v. "How does it feel to be on the other end of your _partner's_ gun, Agent Devineaux?"

Chase did not answer. He only struggled. But strangely enough, as Julia watches with hateful eyes, he wasn't struggling with trying to free himself from Julia's boots, but instead, he struggles to form words and construct a sentence. It was a first, as far as Julia was aware, that the man was at a loss for words.

"I want to tell you how much joy bringing you down brings me," Julia continues, "Dull facts and boring things, Were those the right words?"

Chase doesn't respond, but he did not break eye contact. It does not alleviate Julia's raging nerves at all, so she pushes down harder. " _Were those the right words, Agent Devineaux?_ " she tries again.

Chase nods.

Julia's frown deepens. _Why in heaven's name isn't he fighting back?_ He lies embarrassingly submissive on the floor with Julia's boots possibly piercing his skin. His hands were both free, as well as his legs. So why won't he do something about this predicament? Why doesn't he grab Julia's foot and push her off? Why doesn't he use both his legs and kick Julia's knees? Has he finally reached peak dumbass?

"Julia—"

_oh for fuck's sake,_ Julia rolls her eyes for one last time. She _does not hesitate_ topull the trigger this time.

"I am sorry."

Julia flinches...and she misses.

Did she hear that right? Or was that just some random echo from these ancient and probably ghost-infested walls? Her eyes widen and she looks at Chase, putting the gun that had no ammo aside. He was still pinned under her, chest against her boots, back against the floor, and he looked nervous.

" _What did you say...?_ " It was so small, Julia barely heard it herself despite the fact that it came out of her mouth.

"For all the things that I said, and the things I did. I was passionate at my job, and I had been a detective for years, catching Carmen Sandiego was going to be my biggest achievement, but every time I was close to capturing her she escapes."

_Of course, she may be younger than you, but she was far better at her job than you are with yours,_ Julia wanted to say but she refrained from doing so.

"You were smart. What you lacked in experience, you made up with your impeccable instinct and intellect. I hated to admit it back then, but I would gladly say it now. You intimidated me, Julia. You were better at my job than I was, and it hurt my ego to see you make the correct conclusions every time that I just—I want you to know that I am deeply sorry for the pain that me and my insecurities have caused you."

"You are smart, responsible, and frighteningly competent. Never mind intelligent. You were able to assist the world better with Carmen Sandiego as your partner far better than when I was. I am proud of your accomplishments, Julia. You have inspired me to be better, and you have shown me exactly how to do it."

Now, Julia was genuinely perplexed. 

Which accomplishment was he proud of? The part where Julia has infiltrated places of great historical, and cultural importance to steal from the people of said culture? Not to mention she has disgraced places of worship by simply stepping in there to commit her acts of horrible sins. _Which one was he proud of!? He is mocking me!_

"Accomplishments of horrible evil, you mean?" Julia was far too invested at this point to notice the scurrying behind her.

"You do not remember? You worked side by side with an international thief and helped her steal back artifacts from people like the one you associate with right now, to return them to the country and the culture they belong to. You have succeeded in following your heart, and that requires bravery even I do not have. I am proud of you, Ms. Julia Argent."

It took guts, and a loud argument against all that keeps her from falling apart from the inside, but Julia removes her foot from Chase's chest.

She kept her eyes glued to the floor, brows still furrowed. Her hands began to quiver despite her insistence for composure, and soon, shivers started to crawl their way up her spine as a familiar but jarring headache returned to settle in her head.

She was not dizzy, but she could not seem to keep herself upwards on her own two feet—

_Pounding, blowing, and bashing_. Every wave was more unbearable than the last. Like something wants to come out— _break_ itself out of a prison inside Julia's head where it lays dwindling and starving for a long time. A monster, a stranger... No. _This was no stranger_.

"Julia—" Chase was quick to support her as she falls limp to the ground, but she denied him his offer. Despite the numbness on her limbs, she kicked him back, hard enough to send him back on the ground.

"Don't come close!" She warns. She doesn't know whether to protect herself from him or to protect him from herself— _she doesn't know anymore._

"You look like you're about to pass out!"

"I said don't come close!"

"At least let me help you!"

Shackles have found their way around her ankles and her wrist, pulling her to the ground...at least, that's what she feels like as this headache make her body numb and heavy all of a sudden—

An arm catches her on her way to the floor.

She doesn't bother to know who it was or how they managed to catch her that quickly, only that it made her head bump against the person's shoulder, thus making her headache worse.

A command has been issued, by whoever this person was, but it sounded so far away from Julia's ears— and to be honest, she couldn't hear much through all that ringing, to begin with— that she didn't understand what it was. All she had gotten from that moment, is that there were now three of them in the hall instead of two, and then the other ran deeper into the castle, thus leaving her and this... Whoever this is, alone.

Julia tried to breathe, but I guess it's just her luck because she's having a hard time doing that too.

The person holds them closer, a hand to her cheek. "Breathe with me," she says, and she says it so close to Julia's ears that there was no way she wouldn't be able to hear it. She was warm, and it wasn't just her hand. The person's entire body flushed against hers as a form of support, it was warm...like, like a comfy fireplace on a cold and snowy Christmas Eve.

"Who—" Julia cringes from another wave of pain that wracks her head like a tsunami, "Who are you...?"

"Stop moving, you'll just make it worse—"

Julia doesn't care. She has to get away, even if she has to crawl, even if she has nothing but one arm to pull herself away, she has to move. So she does. And she _tries,_ she swears she does, but it's like her arms had morphed into jelly and her mind a bundle of cotton candy and they're both _melting._ Melting against the flare of this person, against the gentleness and concern on her voice...

Julia knew who this person was.

" _Fuck_ ," she curses under her breath, and Carmen would've heard it if she didn't move around so much, "Let go of me."

"Julia you have to stay still," she says, and Julia hated how warm it felt, how it lulled her to the edge of consciousness, like a siren that serenades for her to jump off her ship and into the endless depth of the sea and all it has to offer. She _hates_ it...she does...and yet, she stills.

"Good girl." Julia could hear the smile behind those words.

"I will kill you," Julia couldn't even speak without taking a second to breathe, but little by little she felt her headache subside. It was slow, and it was nothing but anguish, but it loosens its grip on her. "I swear I will kill you."

"Yes," Julia feels Carmen giggle, "but you have to breathe first. You can't kill me if you're dead, Mi Amor."

It was the way that Carmen said it. It wasn't the words she used, nor the little pet name she called the VILE agent, it was the _tone_ and the _delivery_. It was everything. And somehow, at the same time, it was nothing, because Julia did not see Carmen's face as she says it. How those lips of her move to pronounce ' _mi amor'_ as she has done many times before, and how her pupils dilate and expressions soften at the sight of Julia.

This was dangerous...

Julia knows this was dangerous ground. If any other VILE agents caught her here with Carmen's arms around her waist and her mouth whispering comforting words to her ears... She's dead. Julia feels panic rise from her throat—or maybe that was bile?

_No. NO. NONONONO._

She pushes aggressively against Carmen's chest, and though her own heart begs for her to hurry and scurry back to her warmth, Julia manages to bite it back down. She falls to the ground, the very thing Carmen was protecting her from at this moment. She falls, still breathing abnormally, but with panic and adrenaline mixed in with everything else like a cocktail of misery and misfortune, she was able to think clearly.

Carmen seemed a bit hurt from the sudden reaction, but from her expression, Julia could tell she knew it was bound to happen.

"Be careful," Carmen says, arms reaching out to help Julia steady herself, but Julia slaps it away.

"Leave, Carmen Sandiego. Leave and never appear before me ever again." Julia's eyes were glossy from different mixtures of emotions, and her lips quivered as they let those words go—as if they knew what it was, what it means, and they did not want to. Julia's lips did not want to say it, and her hands wanted to cover her mouth to stop her. She doesn't understand it. It's like her body wasn't even listening to her anymore, the bastards. _Traitors_! Slaves to her heart.

"You and I both know that's not what you want, Julia."

Oh, fuck whatever Julia wants, it‘s what she _needs_ at this moment. Because she's so close to breaking, so close to unraveling herself bare for Carmen to read like an open book. Her skin, her body, unshielded by the cover of her clothes. Naked and open, Carmen could choose and take a pick of whichever emotion she sees within Julia, and look at it. Then she would know... _oh god, she would know._

"You have ruined me once, twice, and god forbid I be foolish enough to let you ruin me again," Julia utters, eyes half-lidded in pity at... _herself? Why do I feel so fucking small and..._ That's when it all comes together, piece by piece until a picture crystal clear was painted on the walls of Julia's higher mind. She was desperate, wasn't she? She was desperate too.

Just like the girl before her that clings to a memory of a person that was supposed to have been wiped away, just like Carmen that faces death and risk of capture every time she entertains Julia's every huff and puff at her, and just like her that, even at the face of discovery, even at the face of her greatest fear, she does not stand and run away. She _could_ not. _Dear God_ , _why couldn't she?_

"I've been meaning to talk to you about that for a long time, Jules. I swear I have not forgotten. I swear it does not bring me peace trying to sleep every night when it's all my nightmares are about—" Carmen says in defense, but her voice was hurried as she closes the distance between them again, shuffling closer to an almost upright Julia on her knees.

Julia almost couldn't believe it. _Carmen was kneeling before her_.

"But I want us to be able to do it when both our lives are not in danger. I—" Carmen's eyes fall to the ground as it dons a darker look, a fit of fuming anger at something Julia doesn't know, "What they did to you...Jules, I can only imagine what they've put you through in that garbage of an organization just—" Carmen softens, and she looks back up to Julia, "Let me help you, please?"

Julia doesn't know what to say. This wasn't exactly an apology, at least it wasn't a conventional one. Where was the part where she says she apologizes for all the shit she had to go through because of her— not to mention the betrayal, the _shameless treachery,_ where the fuck is the apology?

"How could you even begin to help me?" it was meant to be rhetorical, but imagine Julia's surprise when Carmen had stood up from her knees to approach her.

Just like that, Carmen's hands were on her elbows, and face mere inches from her own. "From what intel I've gathered over the months I've been fighting you, I can say with utmost confidence that they did not wipe any of your memories. They did not manipulate your memories, they manipulated your emotions..."

So all this time, every time Carmen was kneeling on the ground before her, defeated. Every time Julia thought she was winning, and she was laughing condescendingly to her face, Carmen was multiple steps in front of her letting her relish her win whilst planning for the next course of action? All this time, she was planning on saving her...

_No, she couldn't have... She couldn't have! This is not real, you're just making this up, Julia. You're too desperate to get back to your old life you're willing to make up lies to believe in to justify it. You said you wouldn't be a fool anymore or was that a lie too?_

"I have a plan. I can tell you, but not here."

"What makes you think I'll just trust you all over again?" Julia pulls her arms away from Carmen, "You looked me in the eye that night as they took me from you, but you did nothing..."

There was no saving her anymore...

"Jules—"

"You did nothing!" Julia retreated, but with a newfound flash of anger, she resurged back and reached for Carmen's collar, fisting it tightly as she pushes the girl against the glass windows of the castle.

Julia's voice breaks, "I loved you, and you did nothing."

_She has finally broken._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit starts to turn around a bit after this chapter


	7. Tell all the Truth, but tell it Slant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start to turn around. For the better or worse? We've yet to find out.

Did you know that ice can sing? When you place your ear against the icy surface of a frozen lake, despite the cold that settles on your face, you will hear a song from deep within. A call, a lullaby, and a serenade for those that sit above its icy fortress, beckoning them to submit and fall into the depths of its waters.

It happens when the ice on the surface begins to crack from tension, and as the crack travels from one distance to the other, enveloping and expanding, it creates these vibrations under the surface. These vibrations, as you've guessed it, create sounds. And because the sound was released under the ice where there is only water, it ends up sounding vague and somehow, at the same time,  _ bold _ .

How strange, you may ask? Well imagine something out of this world, foreign and alien, but it has a deeper connection to the earth than you can dream to have. Closer to the core, deeper into earth's embrace, so irrefutably outlandish that you would believe  _ yourself _ to be the estranged one. Yes. It was  _ that _ strange.

Now imagine that sound muffled, far from reality, as if it was restrained by the cold kiss of a metal cuff by the ankle. It screams for help within a brick room and barricaded door. And that scream? Ghastly. Terrifying. But despite all the horrors beneath the pitch, it was  _ hopeless. _

That's what Carmen Sandiego sees as she stares ever so deeply within Julia Argent's bloodshot eyes. That's what she sees, and that's all she  _ feels _ . While she pushes her aggressively against the glassed windows, her forearm to her neck, and knife to her abdomen. A cry for help, under the guise of unbridled aggression.

She hears the glass crack behind her, but she does not dare move her eyes away from Julia's stare. She could not breathe--  _ obviously _ , but that did not discourage her from talking.

"The glass, my love. Don't break it," Carmen chokes, hands to her side and not grabbing Julia by the arm to lessen the choking motion. No.  _ Never _ . Not even if she needs it. Today, under the soft peck of the afternoon sun, and the rest of her days on this earth, she presents herself bare and whole to the love of her life. Her soul for hers to take, and her own body for hers to do whatever she pleases with.

She need not voice it out, for the heavens above as well as hell below would recognize her unconditional love for this woman before her.

"You think I really care about that right now?" Julia seethes, pressing Carmen tighter against the audibly shattering glass.

"It's a thousand years old, isn't it?"

Julia pauses, and her brow eases. Carmen saw it all, just inches before her, how Julia calculated with that wonderful mind of hers the meaning of their current circumstances, and no doubt her plans on how to handle it. Such precise eyes, looking to the side in deep thought and contemplation. Carmen felt herself melt, and here she was falling in love with the same person all over again.

Julia inevitably let go, but not without keeping her eyes locked on Carmen's hands, cautious. She stares at her, too long for comfort, just to see if the woman plans on doing anything that would make Julia kick her spartan style through the window. But no. Carmen doesn't seem to be planning on anything but look at Julia and Julia alone.

For some reason unknown, it makes Julia's heart skip a beat.

She grabs the collar of Carmen's coat and pulled her aside, showing Julia exactly to what extent she had damaged the thousand-year-old glass. There were cracks, just a few, here and there, and nothing a little fixing could remove. She sighs once she realizes she has not destroyed an artifact beyond reparation.

"I simply do not wish harm upon old artifacts," Julia says, looking at Carmen with a frown, "Do not think for a second that I was being easy on you."

"Of course, wouldn't want it any other way," Carmen gleams.

The smile that she wore on those lips, so free and genuine, Julia couldn't help but feel conflicted and confused. Why does the crimson ghost smile at her so, why does she speak to her as she does? What? What is it for? Was it to earn her trust just to inevitably break it just like she has done before? Does she plan to break Julia again?

It was odd. Truly it was. Why does she feel no hatred towards that smile anymore...?

"So...," Carmen continues, her arm on her hip and weight placed on one leg, all the while looking at Julia through her lashes. Looking at her like  _ that  _ again. So flirtatious, so  _ suggestive.  _ "Who's taking care of that auction you guys are holding?"

This is when Julia snaps out of her thoughts. She perks up, and despite her gut's suggestion to stay calm, she looked towards the left corner, to the direction of the basement where VILE was holding an auction. Illegal, of course. And she has been side-tracked for long enough-- _ far too long _ \-- for it to not be disturbed.

Julia glares at Carmen and bolts.

"Ha!" Carmen chuckles, "Liked my company that much that you lost track of precious time?" She does not hesitate to run after the woman. A woman, to her surprise, could run as fast as she could think.

"Do not make me regret the decision of not throwing you off that window, Ms. Sandiego."

Julia takes a sharp turn to a corner, right into a set of stairs that she did not bother to run down on, but instead slide down on its railing with ease. It's nothing Carmen couldn't copy with perfection, but she still couldn't help the smile that popped to her lips at the sight of her girl performing such feats of athleticism. A small chuckle bubbles up her throat.

"You've been working out, Jules?"

Julia groans inwardly at this and rolls her eyes. If there was something she knew Carmen Sandiego was good at, even better than stealing, is that her ability to get under her nerves. At this moment, she was doing a splendid job at that, and let the Gods smite Julia dead if she was going to just let her get away with it.

She scoffs. The auction was being held underground, with a secret tunnel connecting it to an emergency extraction point if they were ever found out. Of course, with Carmen and her team here, that was not a question of  _ if _ , but  _ when _ . As long as Carmen Sandiego isn't aware of that little tidbit of information, they're good...

_ We're good...? _

__ Julia falters for a quick second. Why does she hesitate? Why does she question? and most important of them all, why does she feel... _ free? _

_ Could it be...? _

She eyes the open window to the side and before she could think about it, she changes direction and heads straight towards it. It catches Carmen off guard, who was heading straight for the opposite direction where a hallway was positioned. She scrapes her boots against the floor trying to stop her momentum and stumbles, just a little bit, but she was quick enough to maneuver herself to follow Julia.

Julia jumps out the window, glass shattering and flying everywhere, and with her grappling hook, she shoots it up towards the edge of the rooftop. Of course, Carmen would do the same, which was calculated, but the plan was not to lose Carmen Sandiego in the chase. The plan was to make her so invested in it it's all she could focus on, and who else better than Julia to steal her attention?

But then a voice speaks again...  _ Why steal her attention? Why distract her? Julia, what are you doing?  _ There was no way. If she could question, if she could doubt, if her resolve could waver, and if her rage could be tamed...then there's only one explanation for all of this.

_ Am I...am I free? Finally? _

"You've definitely been working out!" Carmen laughs as she pulls herself up to the roof, right into the clutches of Julia's hands. With one swift pull, Julia manages to grasp Carmen's coat and haul her to the other side of the room, almost to the edge,  _ almost,  _ but not quite.

"Not your business," Julia answers coldly, drawing her gun. But Carmen was faster, as she was able to shoot it off of Julia's hands, letting it fall the distance of at least 50 meters to the ground below.

It was a rough landing, and she had hit her shoulder against a particularly sharp corner, but Carmen was still able to aim with perfect accuracy. Nothing less from an international thief. Julia would compliment her on the impeccable reaction time if she were anyone but the enemy--

\-- _ but she's not an enemy...? _

__ Julia's head pounds, again. But it wasn't as painful as before. It did not feel as though an animal was trying to claw its way out of her brain, nor did it feel as if she was being stabbed in the head by dull knives. This felt...  _ new _ , and surprisingly short.

"That hurts," Carmen chuckles, hand on her shoulder, standing up to her full height.

"That's the point."

Carmen gleams, "And so it is."

Silence dawns on the two women on the rooftop, eyes locked, hands unmoving, and with nothing but the ever freezing breeze to remind them that the world was still moving. A parallel of a black and red coat, a scowl and a smile, and a woman ready to give her all for a woman who desperately needs it. It was like watching an eclipse, without protective eyewear. Exposed to the world, but atypical all the same.

Julia stares at what used to be the love of her life, those familiar auburn locks swaying gracefully in the wind, and that ever so suggestive smile. Julia stares at them and Carmen intently stares back.

"I know what you're doing Julia," Carmen decides to break the silence first, confidence dripping from her words, and her body language reflected it. A hand to the hips, and tilted head. "You're trying to keep me far from the auction. Distracting me, like always."

"And like always, you are easily distracted," Julia replies, but monotonically.

"You can't blame me. You are plenty distracting, are you not?"

At the honesty of that sentence, and the way Carmen's face softens to inquire a genuine question, Julia couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle.

"I am."

Silence. Once again.

However, this time, they did not stare each other down as if trying to discourage the other to move. They did not look as if they were being cautious, alert, nor doubtful. This time they look. Really  _ look.  _ Through the colored rims of their eyes, and straight to the bare and passionate soul within, brimming with want and longing for the other.

What are they doing?

What is Carmen doing chasing Julia around like a dog to its tail? And what is Julia doing leading her around in circles, only to leave her hanging in the end, savoring the taste of temporary victory, only for her to do it all over again? In this little game they play, neither of them made the rules, but they adhere so loyally to it. And they bleed, and bleed, and bleed, but yet smile and laugh just so they could bleed once again.

"Haven't gotten a haircut, yet?" Julia says, pointing her chin to the red thief's hair.

"No. Not yet."

"That's alright." Julia replies, just as quick as the other answers, "Short hair, hmm? You probably cant pull it off anyway."

Julia feels empty. The thrill... Where has it gone? The thrill of the chase, the pleasure of looking down at a defeated Carmen Sandiego, had it left her? What happened? What changed? It feels as if she was so tired she could sleep for months on end, and so unbelievably dull she could not feel pain even it tears her bones from her joints.

"Hey!" Carmen gasps, faking insult with a hint of a hearty chuckle in her throat "I could definitely pull that off! How dare you!"

So,  _ so empty.  _ And yet...  _ And yet there it was. _

_ A bloom _ . Something within the typically hard-natured and cold villain named Julia, she felt something bloom. Warm, gentle, and filling. It fills her stomach with an odd sensation and continues to settle within the bottom of her heart where it had taken full control. Her chest pounds, harder and faster, and before Julia realizes it, Carmen was all she could see.

The world, reduced to the size of a pea on the palm of her hand. Blurry, gray, and ever  _ so insignificant _ . Much much more insignificant than the beauty that stands before her. A basket of gold-- no, a basket of  _ diamonds  _ have nothing on the glint of Carmen's smile,  _ god that gorgeous smile. _

A smile that puts the sun in all her glory to shame. That adorable tilt of her head to the left, as if to plead and to command at the same time. The way she looks at Julia through her lashes, straight to the core of her soul where her deepest darkest secrets lie. It's all Carmen. Nothing but Carmen.

_ Carmen Sandiego. _

_ Kiss her.  _ A voice commands, and she doesn't know where it came from, nor who it was, but all she knows is that there's nothing but a silk thread that stops her from following it.  _ Kiss her. Kiss Carmen _ , It beckons. Her love.  _ Her life _ . Why not? What's stopping her?

A gentle smile forms on her lips. Soft and genuine, one that brought a pink hue to blossom on her cheeks. Julia looks at Carmen and says, "Yeah. You could pull anything off."

It caught Carmen by surprise.

Actually. It caught both of them by surprise.

"You mean that?" Now it was Carmen's turn to blush. As if it was the first compliment she had ever gotten from a woman as beautiful and adorably intelligent as Julia Argent. As if it were a compliment from the goddesses themselves.

Julia takes a step forward. Nothing but Carmen in her eyes. She raises both hands in surrender, and she lowers her head slightly to show the other woman she plans on nothing ill nor malicious. That she simply wants to be closer.  _ Feel closer.  _ And by God did Carmen want it too.

So step by step, Carmen watches. The way Julia's boots produce a soft crunch with every distance she closes. The way the wind itself seems to sings them a song of romance and joy, encompassing them,  _ possessing them. Come closer _ , it says,  _ embrace each other, touch each other, and listen to each other's heartbeats as if it were the lullabies that lull you to sleep. Kiss each other till your lungs ache and your legs give out.  _

__ It was tempting. Very  _ very  _ tempting.

"The auction is being conducted on the basement," Julia says finally, after holding her breath for what feels like an eternity. Now, as she stands mere inches from Carmen Sandiego, she felt no anger nor aggression, not even the occasional urge to scoff to her face. She stands with her chest out, head held high, and she looks straight at Carmen Sandiego's eyes.

"It is connected to an emergency exit straight to a direct extraction point where the cleaners wait in their helicopter. It's just behind the building, a bit to the west, you wont miss it. If you make sure that they do not make it to the extraction point, then the artifact is yours."

Carmen was not confused, but she questions nonetheless, "Why are you telling me this?"

Julia thinks for a second, eyes directed to the left while she feels the heated stare from Carmen on her skin.  _ To check me out so shamelessly like this, I ought to teach her a lesson someday. _

__ She looks back, mind made up.

"I will contact you in a few days. We shall talk, like you asked. Not as enemies, and not even as ex-lovers. Just as Carmen and Julia," Julia says, watching Carmen's eyes widen at the realization that she had referred to herself by her real name, "For now, do not tell your companions of what happened. Not of how I willingly handed you information, nor our little chat in the future. Keep this a little secret between us--"

"I heard them here!" loud and imposing, a voice boom from the small hatch on the ground not too far from where the two women were having a...  _ intimate _ conversation. Carmen swears she heard Julia growl in annoyance.

"Le Chevre," She says, looking back at Carmen in disappointment, "You know what to do--"

They had no time, and Carmen certainly needed to escape before she jeopardizes not only their conversation but her mission as well, but she could not for the life of her let herself stop from closing the distance between them and catching Julia's lips with her own. To hell with getting caught.

They both stumbled back from the force, Carmen's hands gently cupping the shorter girl's cheeks, and the other finding their place on the small of the other woman's back.

It was quick--  _ goddamn _ , it was  _ painfully  _ short, and Carmen wanted more. She  _ needed  _ more, but Julia pushed her away.

"I'm sorry--"

It all happened so fast. First was the sound of an explosion, and then the next thing she knows, she was hanging off the edge of the rooftop with only Julia's hand to keep her from falling to her death.

The hatch, made of stone and fused to the rest of the rocks in old age, exploded with the force of one dynamite. And Julia, dear and  _ smart  _ Julia pushed Carmen away. She pushed and pulled Carmen behind her, away from the flying debris of rock and metal shrapnel. She must've used too much force than necessary as the Red thief in question now hangs by the edge of the rooftop holding on to her hand with a mighty grip.

It burns, the many and tiny pieces of rock that had pierced her coat as well as the skin on her back, but she ignores it.

"Jules!" Carmen, who was panicked from seeing the pained expression on her lover's face (as she likes to still refer to her), yelled in worry, "Are you alright? You're bleeding--"

"Shhhhhh!" Julia shushes aggressively, "They're behind me, don't speak."

"But--"

"Do you have your glider?"

Carmen hesitates in answering, because knowing Julia, if she says yes, she'll order her to escape. To leave her once again, hurting and alone. To keep her safe, and to keep her away from harm. Now that is a mistake Carmen is intent on correcting, and God forbid she ever makes the same mistake twice.

__ "Yes. But you would be a fool to think I would just leave you here Julia Argent," She scolds sternly. Julia only scoffs.

"Then a fool I truly am, for you have already done exactly that, Carmen Sandiego," She seethes, "But now is not the time to discuss this. I will contact you, so wait for me till then."

"But your injuries."

"Oh for the love of God," Julia rolls her eyes and just lets Carmen's hand go. She watches her, breath heaving, and blood covering her left eye, falling smaller and smaller into the distance before, just like a phoenix, growing wings of fire and flying away to a world unknown.

_ Safe _ .

"Mon dieu, Noir!" Le Chevre shrieks in horror as he rushes to her side, flipping her over with calculated and gentle arms, "You look like shit!"

"Yeah, who's fault do you think that is?"

"The idea was not mine. Tigress was being impatient again."

"This is going on my report, you know?" Julia couldn't move, and even if she could, with all this pain shooting from different parts of her back, she doesn't even dare to.

"What? We heard Carmen's voice up here so we came to apprehend her!" Came tigress defense, coming in short huffs. But it was hard to miss how the girl looks concerned for the lady in black, even though her bratty exterior had remained unchanged.

"And because of that, she has escaped. Not only that, you have caused injury to an ally. Congratulations."

Le Chevre removes his arms gently from under Julia's body, making sure her injured back was up facing the sky. He taps his earpiece and sighs, "We need a medic. It's Noir, she has many cuts and burns on her back."

_ "What happened!?"  _ The voice was thus far not trying its best to be calm, and it brings relief to Julia's nerves that even though she mingles with villains and psychopaths, they still had the penchant for treating their injured allies. They should. They are in dire need of allies these days. If you could even call Julia that.

"A slight mishap with the explosives. We're with her on the castle rooftop, it's pretty bad."

" _ Alright, don't move her till the cleaners get there! Jesus Christ, highly trained operatives and can't even handle an explosive properly." _

__ Le Chevre takes a seat next to Julia, glaring Tigress down from where she stands a few meters away. He turns to look at Julia, who had her eyes closed but eyes burrowed in distress, "Don't worry, mon amie, help is coming soon."

Julia only laughs, "bien sûr, ils devraient."

_ I just put myself in harm's way to protect Carmen, s _ he realizes, despite the pain. _ How oddly contradicting... _

__ And yet, nothing within her contradicts the nature to protect anymore. Nothing inside her tells her she should scowl at every person that passes her, speak ill of those who try to talk to her. Nothing inside her feels so incredibly angry at the world anymore, specifically Carmen.

If a hunch of hers was true, and that she had finally broken free from the brainwashing VILE had conducted on her, then she must be extra careful.

Because if God wanted to, he has every power to bring it back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, beautiful people! Now I've been busy for a week which is why I was late in uploading (Probably doesn't seem that way to you, but I am strict with the deadlines I give myself). I'll probably be even busier this week so I just would like ya'll to know I won't be posting a chapter until next week.
> 
> Some of you have may have noticed (probably not) that I usually update every 5 days, which, normally, is enough time for me to write at least one chapter. But School work and all that jazz will be loyally keeping me from doing that in the next following days. Don't worry though, I'll post chapter 8 on Feb 17, or earlier depending on the timezones.
> 
> Have an awesome day! or night, wherever you are!


	8. "May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely, if even death separates you and me"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'm back! But I'm still very busy so updates may come slower than normal, but hey at least I'm here now!

"A toast," Chase raises his glass of Moet & Chandon champagne, a smile so prideful and twinkling sitting on his lips, "To our first ever successful caper in a long while!"

The busy chatter of The Witchery, a famous restaurant in Edinburgh, usually enjoyed by and with the wealthy, has been a breath of fresh air from recent environments. Or at least, that's what Carmen thinks. Though dining in a place most people won't be able to afford, the very same people she steals and commits illicit acts for, was a bit of a conundrum. Ironic, at least.

But why does it matter? Especially when VILE, the enemy, is paying for the bill?

"We owe it to Carmen, and her decisiveness on the matter," Shadowsan adds, all the while shaking the glass of lemonade in his hand, after making it crystal clear he was a man without the taste bud for alcohol.

Carmen only smiles back at them.

As much as she itches to tell them exactly who it was they owe this mission to, and who they should reserve their toast and praises for, she bites her tongue. As much as she desires to tell them of her dear Julia's involvement, and how they had kissed for the first time in a long while, she can't. She  _ shouldn't _ .

"So, I guess there's only one more thing left in our agenda," Ivy chips in after finishing her plate of lobster-- something Zack despises with both his mouth and his soul, "When will we get to that?"

"I don't think this is the right place to discuss that," Carmen chuckles, "But hey, we'll get to it in a few days or so."

"Why wait?"

Yes.  _ Why wait? _ Well, there's a simple answer to that equally simple question. Answer number one would be because the matter is of extreme importance and needs time and energy for the preparations alone. Answer number two was because they were all tired and required at least a few days of rest before they get back on their feet. The third Answer is...

The third answer is that she's still waiting for Julia to contact her.

It's been days. Weeks, even. And with the way she left Julia hanging on the rooftop, bleeding and battered, in the company of her sworn enemies, she couldn't help but grow more worried for every day that passes.

She expects a letter of some sort, signed with her initials. Perhaps an inconspicuous note, hidden in a fashion magazine.  _ Anything.  _ Carmen would accept  _ anything  _ at this point if it meant she knew Julia was safe.

The team left the restaurant and head for their respective hotel rooms. 5 star, suites, a personal jacuzzi, and a million-dollar view of the city skyline. Again, paid for by VILE, from the thousands to the single digits. Zack and Shadowsan retreated immediately after, with Shadowsan claiming to be tired, and with Zack drunk off his ass. Ivy helped the poor boy walk and stand, enough to reach the elevator.

Chase requested to stay with Carmen. For what reason, the woman has yet to find out.

"So," The burly man begins, voice shivering as they walk the streets of Edinburgh, "Been quite an uneventful week, wouldn't you say?"

It  _ has _ been quite an uneventful week. They had decided, due to the nature and location of their next agenda, to stay in Edinburgh for a few more weeks. Months, even, if it ever came to that. And with VILE's best agent injured and rendered unable to carry out their evil plans, they have also been quiet since the Edinburgh Caper. As much as she hates that Julia has been hurt in one of her missions and she wasn't there to take care of her, her lack of presence in the field has been beneficial to Carmen and her team.

It was a good sign, Carmen surmises, among other things.

"Yes, it has."

"hmm," Chase hums in delight. He fishes for something within the inner pockets of his favorite brown coat. It was small, metallic, and it had this glint to it as it was exposed to the nightly lights of Edinburgh. A zippo lighter, Carmen soon discovered, and it looked fairly new.

"Didn't fancy you as a smoker, Agent Devineaux," She comments, watching as the man put a stick of cigarette in between his lips and leaning down to light it with his metal lighter. That signature ' _ ting _ ' as he flips it open with one hand.

"I apologize, does it bother you?" Chase looks back at Carmen with this awfully remorseful look that almost made the woman laugh for the peculiarity of it. It seems remorse was a stranger look on the man's face than candy on pizza. He pulls the cigarette out and holds it to the side, almost as if it were a dangerous knife that he wishes to put away for safety.

"No, do as you like. I understand why people get into the habit of it."

With permission, Chase continues to take a puff, making sure to blow it out politely as to not hit Carmen. What with the wind and its attitude and all. Carmen looks back at him with a teasing smile.

"I'm not judging you, if that's what you're thinking, Devineaux."

"Oh, of course not. I do know that it is bad for my health, as well as others. Which is why I only do it on rare occasions."

"Rare occasions such as tonight, I presume?"

Chase chuckles heartily, taking another puff, "Yes."

They carried on like that in comfortable silence. Once enemies, now joined by the strings of fate, walking side by side as friends and colleagues. Maybe even more. Maybe a confidante, of some sort. Or at least, that's what Chase hopes their relationship has grown to be in the last few months.

No more of the doubting, and brow-raising. No more of that few months of passive-aggressiveness, initiated by both sides. It was hard, working under someone this time around instead of calling the shots, but it was a fresh change of scenery. Chase realizes there's more to be sowed from a life lived listening than a life lived speaking.

"I'm being rude," He says out of the blue as he pulls out for his lighter once again, "Would you like one, Ms. Carmen Sandiego?"

Carmen shakes her head politely, "I don't smoke, Devineaux. But thank you, for the offer."

"Of course, if you change your mind all you have to do is ask."

Carmen stops to smile at him, but she fails to ignore the slight stirring from one of the building's rooftops. Her eyes move to catch it just as it jumps from one building to the other, a figure darker than shadows. Carmen's brows raise in suspicion. The swift movements of a certain silhouette she can't seem to place. It was familiar, she swears it was. So instead of answering Chase's questions, she stared intently at the dark expanse of that skyline.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes," Carmen answers without a second thought, but she did not tear her eyes away from the silhouette, fearing she may lose it if her attention swayed for even one second. "You can go back to the hotel and rest, I'll be walking a few minutes more."

Chase wanted to argue, but with that cemented look on Carmen's face, he might as well argue with a rock. So instead of staying, he merely nods his head and smiles, walking back to the direction of their hotel, leaving trails of smoke in his wake.

_ Now,  _ Carmen exhales, eyes still glued to the figure above the ground,  _ Who are you...? _

__ There were no other options left but to follow. However, being on the ground as opposed to the rooftop where the figure traverses, would be an awful disadvantage. So Carmen immediately went to work in pulling herself up and off the streets. All she needed was an empty alleyway, her trusted grappling hook, and a tiny prayer that no passerby see her in the act, and she's good to go.

She hauls herself on top of one of the buildings, eyes scanning for the mysterious figure ahead. Fortunately enough for her, she had drunk enough alcohol in her system to give her an ounce of adrenaline to work off of. And work off it, she does.

She runs. Boots clicking on cement floors, sometimes metal. She jumps, one edge after the other, dodging clothesline and boxes of unknown purposes. Ahead of her was the dark figure, managing to keep a distance even as their pursuit starts to turn heated. Their movements suggest they are used to jumping around on top of buildings like this, but Carmen could tell they did not know where they were going.

One last jump, long in the distance as it was in time, and Carmen stops dead on her tracks. The figure was nowhere to be seen. Nowhere to be heard. Hidden in plain sight as they took complete advantage of the motherly kiss of a chilly night and cloudy skies.  _ They could be anywhere. _

__

Carmen's eyes jump from one still figure to another, trying her best to figure out which one was more likely to jump out to mug her and--

"I'm impressed."

Carmen flinches in surprise. She swears she heard herself squeak too, somewhere between her flinching and cursing aggressively in Spanish. It takes her a second to calm her nerves, and when it does only did she realize whom that voice belongs to.

"Julia," She speaks the name with a sigh, almost like a prayer. A word of  _ divine worship. _

__ Julia stands before her, donning her familiar black coat and black boots, similar to Carmen's, just a different color. She smiles, and her hands remain hidden inside the warmth of her pockets. Her shoulders were relaxed, and she harbored no intentions that suggest she would do any harm.

"Hey," She greets nonchalantly.

Carmen composes herself at the sight of her beloved, dusting off the shoulder of her coat and straightening her collar. There was something different about Julia tonight, and though she looks the same as any night Carmen has encountered her, she  _ feels  _ different.

Could it have been the light of the moon filtered through the clouds, she wonders, that makes it seem like the woman before her glows a magnificent white despite the darkness? Or could it have been that smile?

_ Oh, that smile.  _ It burns brighter than a torch in a cave. A guide to the treasures within.  _ A lure, ever so alluring. _

"You said you would contact me," Carmen begins, her tone nothing short of questioning, but it wasn't imposing either. Her hands shook with fervent intensity beside her and she did not do her best in hiding it.

Was she nervous? Of course, she was. She would not be fighting this woman tonight. She would not be exchanging threats and curses with this woman tonight. No, the only thing they will be exchanging is words. That and their hearts. To each other. Bare and pure.

She was nervous because she had not seen the real __ Julia before her in a long time. The one she loved, and the one she made love to. And now here she was...

"I am contacting you now, am I not?" Julia replies with an assertive tone.

"I expected a note, or a letter. Not a stalker."

"A letter would be too on the nose, and there's always the risk of other people finding it. Meeting you like this is safer."

"For you, or for me?"

Julia frowns, and Carmen freezes up a bit at the sight.

"For the both of us. Surely you do not think I'd be stupid enough as to put your life and mine in danger for a simple chat?"

"No, of course not."

Julia hums. She removes her hands from her pocket and walks to a bench just by the edge of the rooftop. It was dark and it was hard to see what it looked like, but Carmen could tell it was old and worn out. Probably dusty too, but Julia sits on it without a second thought. It creaks under her weight.

"So, should I begin or should you?"

Carmen entertained the thought of sitting next to her at that moment. Putting her head on the woman's shoulder, arms linked and staring at nothing but the cloudy skies and the shy moon that hides behind them. All the while holding hands, exchanging warmth and dreams.

But she stops herself before she gets too carried away. Carmen remains to stand, a meter away.  _ A meter too far. _

"We're jumping right into it, huh? How about dinner? Have you eaten yet?"

Julia laughs and it hits every corner of Carmen's longing soul. Struck every chord of her heart. A sound as bright as the steps to Olympus, and as euphoric as a few drops of opium. Oh, what she would do to let the gods bless her with it again. 

"I saw you and your team have oysters, lobsters, and Moet & Chandon for dinner and now you're asking  _ me  _ if I've had one?"

"It's common courtesy, Julia," Carmen tries not to stutter.

"Oh sure.  _ Common courtesy _ . You might as well ask me out on a date, Carmen Sandiego."

_ And would that be so bad?  _ Carmen thinks. She gathers for the bravery to say it, but just as she was about to spill, she doesn't. Not yet. Not when there are things they have yet to figure out for themselves and each other. Not when she has a mountain of things to ask forgiveness for.

_ I know you long for her. I know it is painful. But keep it in. This is not about you, Carmen Sandiego.  _

"I simply ask if you are fed enough to have this conversation, and  _ please..."  _ Carmen sighs, "just call me Carmen."

" _ You can call me however you like _ ," Julia says, low,  _ purring,  _ as she puts one leg on top of the other, "Isn't that what you once told me in Poitiers? The one where you spent the night in my apartment?"

Carmen hums at the pleasant memory. How could she ever forget? The moon was nowhere to be seen that night, same as this night, and Carmen had sneaked in through one of Julia's open windows for a surprise visit. She sat on her bed in her pajamas, one lamp open, glasses sitting on top of her nose, reading a book Carmen does not recognize.

It was a particularly sleepless night, for the both of them. And Carmen had confessed her love for the other woman as she lies comfortably on her lap, one of Julia's hands brushing her soft, long, auburn locks, all the while reading her a passage from the book. It was quiet, and it was cold, but she wouldn't have it any other way. Julia's voice as she reads, her light touches,  _ all of her,  _ it was all that Carmen needed to sleep.

She remembers because not once has she ever slept so soundly in the arms of another person.

"Still," Carmen swallows a lump in her throat, trying to keep the blush at bay, "Carmen Sandiego is a mouthful."

Julia laughs. Carmen doesn't understand why, but she watches as Julia's shoulder shake and her voice reverberates upon the empty sky. When she finishes, her eyes took on a darker shade-- something or somewhat like an eclipse. A beauty that people would willingly blind themselves for.

"May I ask you a question?" Julia inquires, her voice sharp.

"Yes."

She stands up and takes three long and powerful strides towards Carmen. It was hypnotic, the way the woman's hips sway as she takes a step, the way her eyes focus on Carmen and Carmen alone. Like a predator to prey. Carmen found herself drawn to it, and her body met her halfway. A moth to a lamp. And the sun to her moon.

" _ Anything _ ," Carmen whispers now that Julia stands a mere inch from her, "Ask me anything."

Julia did not break her gaze away from Carmen's chocolate eyes, nor did Carmen dare look at anything else. They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, and maybe it was an eternity. It'd be dramatic, and poetic as fuck, but Carmen would rather spend an eternity looking at those eyes that enthrall her so than spend her living days walking the earth by her lonesome.

She wanted to kiss her. Oh, how _ easy _ it would be to just lean in and capture the woman's lips with her own. To sneak her arms around the woman's back, and to hold her cheeks ever so close with the palm of her hand. To  _ feel  _ her again. To  _ taste  _ her again. Oh, how easy would it be...

"Do you still love me?"

Julia asks. Her voice not above a whisper, but still with unwavering conviction.

Carmen takes a shuddered breath. What was she to say? Has she the right to answer the question? Above all else, beyond what the heavens could comprehend, higher than all that the Universe could reach, Carmen had never loved anyone as much as she has loved the woman that stands before her. She had never tasted anything as sweet and never heard a sigh as lovely as Julia's. Never held a heart so pure and red, never kissed lips so soft, and never embraced a body so warm.

With shaky lips, Carmen answers, "Yes. I do. Always have, and always will."

Her hand, freezing in the cold, found Julia's gloved ones in the heat of the moment. She need not think about what her body wants, for her heart desires the same, despite her higher mind's disagreement.

"When you go to bed at night, and when you wake up in the morning, do you think of me?"

Carmen shakes fruitfully more, "I do. Every waking moment."

_ I love you _ . Carmen wants to say, beg the gods to let her say, but her lips shook too much to allow for anything else _. I love you... _

"I see..." Julia takes her hand back and steps away. She nods with newfound knowledge as if she had finally made her mind up about something Carmen was not aware of.

It struck a bolt of guilt to see her beloved shy away from her as she did. Like she had just touched a thorn. Like she had just attempted to hold fire. Julia was hurt, it takes no genius to realize that. Carmen tries to pursue. To approach, and to comfort, but Julia raised her hand to command her to stop.

"The more I hear about it, the more it fails to make sense to me. If you love me as much as you claim, then why...?"

Julia's voice breaks, and what little mask of brevity and stoicism she wore along with it. She did not approach Carmen for support, not when her body threatened to fall into a heap on the floor. She did not move away either, afraid that Carmen would be too out of reach for her. Instead, she stood perfectly still, as whirlwinds of pain, hurt, and desperation quakes every corner of her being.

Why indeed? It failed to make sense then, and it failed to make sense now. Why?  _ Why? Why leave her to misery? Why leave at all? _

__ "Julia," Carmen's voice breaks too, and Julia found it fitting that it breaks at the mere mention of her name. " _ Mi amor _ , don't cry."

"Oh fuck you, Carmen Sandiego," She seethes. It was all too late, droplets had already left the comfort of her eyes and to the cement floor below, "I will cry if I want to, you prick."

Carmen surges forward to hold Julia by the elbow. To keep her up on her feet. And though the woman shakes with the same frequency as Julia, she keeps her legs strong and standing. "Curse me. Hit me if it makes you feel better. Just know that I did not leave you there that night to be taken. Julia,  _ I would never. _ "

"And yet I was still taken anyway."

"I tried-- I  _ tried _ to get you back,  _ I promise _ ! There is nothing but me and my incompetence to blame, but believe me Julia,  _ please.  _ I would never leave you like that."

"They told me you chose the artifact over me," Julia doesn't even want to mention it, because saying it out loud means that it's true, but she doesn't give a flying fuck anymore. "They told me you watched as the helicopter hauls me away--  _ you watched!" _

__ "No, no, no, Julia that's not what happened.  _ Please,  _ listen to me. I--"

"You failed. It's what you did."

It was true. Carmen could argue all she'd like. Heck, they could stay like this for a week and argue, but there were no changing facts. Not even when she prays every night for it to not be true. She  _ has  _ failed. She has failed immensely, and it had cost her  _ everything. _

__ She embraces the woman. Like a lifeline, and fearing for her sanity if she ever let go, Carmen Sandiego hugs the woman that struggles to push her away.

They were both a crying mess, god thank the shy moon for not highlighting their wet and red faces for the other to see. Tears falling on each other's coats, sliding down each other's skin. The sky might as well rain on them for what difference would it make?

Carmen holds Julia's shaking body flush against her own, to provide the littlest bit of comfort to the other woman, even if she does not want it. Her hand finds the back of the other woman's head as her face hides in the crook of the crimson ghost's neck, and the other shaping unrecognizable figures on her back.

"I'm sorry," She shudders. "I'm sorry, Julia."

Julia releases a sigh. And with that simple release of a sigh, she felt a ton of weight lifted upon her shoulder as well her back. She felt her legs grow a tad bit lighter, and her skin grows flush with warmth.

How could a simple gesture affect her so? How could a single person cause so much torment and pleasure within her? It is a blessing and a curse, to have Carmen Sandiego hold you like this while she pleads for forgiveness against your ears. To have her hands, skilled and dangerous, to gently caress your skin as if you were a dandelion seed that threatens to float away were she not careful. It should be illegal.  _ It should be a crime.  _

" _ I love you _ ," Carmen breathes against Julia's ears, "My dear Julia, I still love you with all that I am."

Let the heavens bear witness to this confession, and let all those that doubt Carmen's love for Julia to strike themselves dead in shame, for the woman would offer her life and soul on something as simple as a whim just to see her beloved smile that beautiful smile of hers again. And she would say it again, and again, and again, in fear that Julia ever forget.

Let it be known, and forever shall it remain true, that Carmen Sandiego would follow Julia Argent to hell if she has to. That her heart, red and battered as it was, have no place in this world if not on the palm of Julia's hands. That her eyes, strike it with fire if she were ever to gaze on anything but Julia's face. And her soul, condemned to an eternity of torment if even death separates the two of them.

Julia chuckles, and she sniffs. "Ever the poet, are you? Declaring your love for me and all on a rooftop under the moonlight."

She melts. Despite herself, she melts against the warmth of Carmen Sandiego and the fire in her words. Reduced to a puddle of water atop a muddy ground, when was the last time she has felt so weightless, Julia wonders? Months of endless torment and pain brought about by the very same woman that embraces her as if her life depended on it, and Julia  _ swoons. _

__ She ought to be embarrassed. But _ goodness _ , why isn't she?

"Seemed like the perfect time for it."

"Mmnn," Julia buries her face deeper against Carmen's neck, for the first time in a long while,  _ safe. _

_ Finally. _

"Take me home."

Carmen smiles, "Would want nothing more."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next update would be...whenever. I'm not entirely sure yet, school demands my undivided attention so I can't write as often as I would like. Plus, I would be graduating in a few months, so yeah. More work :(


	9. "And if the Devil was to ever see you, he'd kiss your eyes and repent."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I've got a quiz tomorrow and I really should be studying but I needed to get this out of the way first

Ever had those nights where you lie in bed, head empty, staring at the random spots on your ceiling, connecting dots as if they were the Big Bang's gifts of constellations, right there in your home? The blanket covers you from chest to toe, arms out, earphones in both ears, blasting some random playlist you found online, by another fellow that feels for the little things as deep as you.

It was chilly, and despite the music in your ears, you could hear the pounding of your heart against the cage that is your chest. You breathe in, slow and deep. And you stare up at that ceiling feeling in love with everything and nothing at the same time. Like the chill was your suitor, and you were betrothed to the music in your ears. Like the blanket that embraces you were a childhood crush and the room that shelters you a high school sweetheart?

Ever walk outside your house, or your apartment, same shoes and same legs on that same pavement. Yet you look but you do not see. You look at the sidewalk, at the cracks in the cement, at the moss that grows to the side, but you do not see the way the sunlight seeps through the leaves of trees, and how dandelions grow boldly through the cement. You look at the cars that drive by and the smoke they leave, yet you do not see the smiles of the people within, looking to their companion with fondness.

You ever feel like you've been living on this earth for a long time; A  _ very  _ long time, but only now do you feel like you were born? Like you've been trying to inhale underwater all along but only then felt like you had resurfaced?

Those rare moments in your life where you just stop. Out of nowhere, you stop. You close your eyes, and  _ you listen _ . To the birds that sing their tunes, the wind that blows their secrets. The cars that honk. Leaves that rustle, and time seems to run slower. Slower and slower, just for you. Until you could see the ants on the ground form their line. See the caterpillar bite from a leaf, and a butterfly flaps its wings to feed on a flower.

They say, when a person falls in love with everything and nothing at the same time, that is when a person is most in love with themselves. And loving yourself--  _ my, what a wondrous felicity that is _ . 

But, what if you love someone else to that extent? That a light seems brighter, and the grass looks greener. Is it the same? Could it ever be the same?

_ Yes. Yes, it is. Yes, it will.  _ Because although it is easier to love someone else, it is harder to love someone so much,  _ so good and so well,  _ they end up loving themselves in the end.

"I hope when you said ' _ home _ ' you don't mean Poitiers," Carmen chuckles giddily as she taps her hotel card on her doorknob, opening it with a digital sounding ' _ click _ '.

"Oh please, It's been months since I've last been there. My landlord probably thinks I'm dead and sold the place to someone else already."

"That's a shame, I kinda liked your apartment."

" _ kinda _ ? You were there every week. If you didn't steal I would've thought you had nothing going on with your life."

Carmen snickers, "You make it sound like stealing is an acceptable career."

She opens the door to her hotel suite, like St. Peter and the gates to heaven. And just like heaven, the room was decorated in all shades of gold and silver, glistening and divine. Julia had never seen anything like it her whole life, not even VILE was generous enough to decorate a room with their gold and riches. The floor was covered with a velvet-like white carpet, and the ceiling above hangs a glorious chandelier.

"Impressed, are you?" Carmen gleams in pride, the shine in her smile putting all the other jewels in the room to shame.

"How much did you guys pay for a room like this?" Julia does not mind the awed gasp that escapes her as her bare foot came into blissful contact with the carpet.  _ Oh, that is so fucking soft _ .

"We don't. VILE's footing the bill."

"Of course." Honestly, why did Julia think it was someone's life savings paying for this. She should've expected that even in leisure, Carmen and her team will continue their best to spite VILE. The effort alone deserves a round of applause.

Julia follows deeper into the wide expanse of the suite, closer to the windows and the door with a golden label ' _ Jacuzzi _ ' on top. There in the middle sits in its lonesome a flat-screen tv, and just below it its remote next to a pile of books stacked on top of each other. She doubts Carmen lies in her bed some nights and turns it on. The woman was way too energetic to just sit down and binge-watch a show...

The books were more of an interest to Julia though, for being a book lover herself, she had never seen books as loved and worn out as those that lie on that table. She approaches them silently, perfectly aware of the eyes that follow her every movement. Eyes that not only  _ look  _ but  _ see.  _ Eyes that seek and find, and eyes that dare never leave her behind.

The first book, the one that lies atop all the others, was a book by the name of The Coffee Cries Foul, by Ymatruz. Tethered at the seams, and held together by wit and wit alone. She flipped it open, only to be delighted to see that it was a book of poems.

"Hmm," She hums with a slight nod, "Poetry."

Carmen chuckles at the implication of stupefaction. She lets go of the silk curtains she fondles between her fingers and approaches her dear Julia instead. Watching the girl flip the pages with a motherly touch. Feathery and delicate,  _ careful  _ as to not harm the old book. Carmen speaks, "Shakespeare said, ' _ brevity is the soul of wit _ '. And Sun Tzu said  _ ' The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting'.  _ Poetry is not just a means of expression, you know."

The next book was equally as old, perhaps more, but twice as thick. Donning the name ' _ The Ring of the Dove _ ' by Ibn Hazm. An old, pale, color of yellowish-white. She recognizes the author, but the work remains to be foreign and unknown in her hands.

"Ibn Hazm," She starts, flipping the pages as she has done so before with the other book, "I assume this was the English translation from his original Arabic work?"

"It is. One of his literary works. Quite rare since he didn't write that many of it."

"I read somewhere that he was in the habit of writing poems too."

Carmen's smile outshone the sun, "Yes. My favorite was a line from his poem, My Heart. ' _ I would slit open my heart with a knife, place you within and seal my wound, that you might dwell there and never inhabit another'... _ "

Julia does not miss the way Carmen's eyes look at her as she says the passage. Glossy and dazed. Like  _ she _ was the poet, and Julia was the recipient of all the poems and letters she writes. A confession hidden in another person's words. No better love story was written than that of a poet and all that they hold dear. Because although a painter could make see, and a musician could make you hear. A poet could make you  _ feel _ .

_ Really, how many times is she going to confess in one night? _

"See the last book," Carmen commands gently, prodding Julia to move on to the last.

The last book was that of another poet, and not just any poet, a poet Julia knows and remembers. Reading his books during sleepless nights at the ripe age of 21, nothing but the cries of owls and the buzzing of the night light to keep her company in her solitude. It brought about pleasant memories of her time in a public library back in France, where she spent most of her time in.

"Mahmoud Darwish," She gasps in pleasant surprise.

"You know of him?"

"How could I not? His poems were quite a big part of my college days."

She did not bother to open the book, for she knows its words by the thread and strings of her heart. With but a hand placed on its cover, Julia closes her eyes to recite a passage from memory.

" _ They asked, 'do you love her to death?' _ ," Julia begins. 

_ Oh.  _ Carmen's pupils shift a shade darker and dilate, staring at the lovely woman in front of her, reciting strings of poetry from a memory many years ago.

" _ I said, 'speak of her over my grave...,"  _ Carmen continues and her heart leaps at the way Julia's lips pull to form a gentle smile. A soft chuckle escapes from the woman's lips, impressed, no doubt, of Carmen's knowledge of the poem.

".... _ and watch how she brings me back to life,"  _ Julia finishes, opening her eyes with the slowest of flutters.

She finds Carmen staring back at her, fire burning in the back of those chocolate brown eyes.  _ Hot and bright _ , yet delicate and nurturing. She itches to love and to hold. To breathe in the life she imagined she would share with Julia, and exhale with impeccable fervor. Bliss.  _ Sweet. So, so sweet.  _ Julia knows of that look, for she had worn it once as well. She had worn it proud, for the very same woman who wears it for her now.

" _ Stay with me _ ," Carmen pleads. She could have done anything. She could've reached and held Julia's hands. She could've leaned in and captured her lips. But at that moment, she pleads. " _ Please? _ "

My, what a forlorn sight it was to witness. A soul that begs to be reunited with its other half, for without it she refrains to be whole. And there's nothing more heartbreaking than to witness a fragmental soul shed a tear it could not afford a space to hold. It fills Julia with dread to think that she may have to deny the request.

"I can't."

"Why not? You'll be safe here.  _ I _ will keep you safe. I..." Carmen shakes, and her voice does as well. " _ I missed you severely _ ,  _ mi amor." _

__ "I know. But this is not the time."

"If not now, when?"

"If you could bear seeing me working for the enemy all those months then you could bear to see me work for them a few times more."

"Why? If we hop into a plane right now, we could be kilometers away from VILE come sunrise, and they'd be none the wiser," Carmen reasons, but the harder she argues, the harder Julia fights back, further cementing the notion that Julia was not here to stay.

"I have a plan that will help us in the long run, but for now you have to trust me."

"Plan?" Carmen's brow raises, "What plan?"

"I have a drive, back at base, complete with invaluable data that I stole from VILE's Networks. It encompasses all the recent and future deals they have planned. How, where, and when it happens. I just need a bit more time to gather all of it and I'm gone."

Carmen could not understand it. Actually, in truth, she could, but as her higher mind fights with her instincts, and the many voices in her head fight for control of the body, she was left in a dumbfounded stupor. It was brilliant. The plan.  _ Magnificent. _ Not a day goes by where Julia ceases to impress Carmen with her inhumane intellect, and she'd be absurd to not go through with it.

"You can hack?" was all Carmen's short-wired brain could muster, and she would slap herself in the face for it if she could move her hands.

"I can do many things, Carmen. Hacking is one of them. I may not be as fast or efficient as Player, but I know my way around it. Which is why you have to trust me and give me  _ time _ ."

_ Breathe.  _ Carmen demands of herself.  _ Let yourself breathe, and let yourself listen.  _ She inhales, long and deep, till she feels her lungs could not hold much anymore. And she holds it, for a while, before exhaling as slowly as she had inhaled. Eyes closed, hands balled to a fist, Carmen forces herself to relax and remain open.

Open she was but relaxed she wasn't.

"Alright. What are your thoughts?"

"Okay," Julia places the book down on the table, along with the rest, "To pull this off, we have to make sure VILE does not suspect a thing. Both for the plan and my safety. Which means you and I have to put up an act in front of them--me trying to steal their shit and you trying to steal it back."

Julia dons a more serious look, "But we have to keep it a secret. From everybody. We can't risk a slip of the tongue."

She knows what Julia is trying to say, in essence. Keep her mouth shut, never mention it to anybody, even her friends. Watch her leave and come back to the enemy's lair. Watch her drop down on every caper, every mission, from the enemy's helicopter as if they had not hurt her beyond comprehension. She knows what Julia was trying to say with those words, but it hurt to imagine them still.

"...and if you were to get caught?"

"I wont."

Carmen scoffs, "You can't be too sure, we have to have a backup plan of some sort. What if you get caught and I wasn't there to help you, what then?"

"Oh piss off. Stop acting like I'm some damsel in distress locked up in a tower. If I can beat you in a fight then surely you believe I can hold them off on my own, you don't have to keep protecting me all the goddamn time."

She hadn't meant for that to come as sharp as it did, nor did she mean to tone it in a way that passes off as aggravation, but it had already left her mouth, and she could not swallow it back. Carmen steps back, mouth agape, visibly shaken. She wasn't hurt, per se. She merely looked as if the strings of words had offended her and her kin.

"I'm only trying to look out for you," She reasons, hands flying to her chest, "A little help from a... _ a friend  _ won't hurt, surely."

_ A friend.  _ Was that really all Carmen was to Julia, she wonders. What a word to describe them, of all the many that were written in the dictionary. The six-lettered word was the one Carmen picked. It was rather insulting, actually, for all these to happen between them. For all the pain and pleasure to be shared between them, two souls linked,  _ bonded,  _ joined as one, just so Carmen could come up to her and claim them to be merely  _ friends.  _

Was it fair? No, of course not. Nothing about this was fair. Nothing about this was right. Neither catastrophe nor tragedy would be competent enough to describe whatever this is. For if it was, then surely Shakespeare would have conjured a word ever so befitting the two of them for use.

Friends they were not, but lovers even less.

So, what were they?

How would you even begin to describe a union as byzantine as this?

"All I ask is that you let at least two of us help you, is all," Carmen exhales heavily. She wouldn't take any chances, from her look alone that much was true, so Julia finally submits with a sigh.

"Fine, who would you suggest?" 

Carmen crosses her arms and nods in confidence, "Player."

Alright, that wasn't so bad. Player was the most competent of them all, only third to Carmen and Shadowsan. Despite being the youngest, he is no doubt Carmen's oldest friend and the strongest voice of reason. She could trust him _. Depend _ on him even more so. Julia had feared Carmen suggest either one of the twins or Chase as a suitable confidante. Player was good.

"I don't object to that, fine. We'll fill him in."

A wave of relief washes over Carmen's features. Her shoulders fall back and she releases a breath she was no doubt holding in. Finally. Arguing with someone as stubborn as Julia was never an easy task, but then again, between the two of them, Carmen was more of a pain. That was until her lips fell into a line and she tenses up once again.

"Do you mean now?"

"What?" Julia laughs, and it caught Carmen off guard, "Dear god no, let the boy rest. He deserves it."

A thick fog of silence dawns upon them. However, unlike most fogs, this one was not unnerving nor anxiety-inducing at the very least. This one wasn't suffocating. It did not beg for it to be filled with conversation or anything that would impede on its presence. It was comfortable. For it allowed the slight whirr of the air-conditioning to be heard, and thoughts to appear.

Carmen moves on to sit on the bed. Smiling contently as it dips to accommodate her weight, her hand gliding against the smooth and silky duvet that hugs it as a whole. She focuses on that for a while, eyes stirring. Perhaps getting lost in the way her own fingers draw figures of questionable appearances, or how it feels like she was touching something so soft it felt like nothing at all.

Then, as if commanded by an omnipotent voice, she stops. She stops to look back at Julia that stares at her with an intensity she could not place. What was that expression she wore so unvarnished and yet so proudly? What does it say? When asked upon by a judge, and when judged upon by a god, would Julia look the same?

Carmen wants to know.

What does that mind shelter? What words do that tongue hold by the tip, what secrets do those lips have the capacity to utter?

A bottomless pit of discoveries. Julia was a menace, but not because she was a force to be reckoned with. A force stronger than an earthquake, and flashier than a thunderstorm. She was not a menace because she had every power and  _ right  _ to inflict pain, but because in spite of it all, she chooses not to.

All those nights she could have stabbed Carmen. Slit her throat. Choke her to death. Push her to the edge of a cliff. All those nights she was free to commit acts of sin and immorality, she doesn't. Even under the influence of the devil, she doesn't. She was a menace because of her innate compassion for others, for  _ Carmen _ . And may death come to those who dare fracture that.

_ My Julia. My dear Julia. _

__ "Come closer," Carmen beckons, with her eyes as well as her lips, "Please."

Julia doesn't respond at first, too enamored with the way Carmen's pupils dilate at the sight of her, how it expands faster and wider than the universe ever could. She shudders, as warmth begins to bloom in her chest. There was this... _ this pull  _ that Julia could not ignore-- it  _ hurt  _ to ignore.

It brought back the memory of a certain poem she read once upon a time. A time where she had skimmed it for she knew not of what it entails,  _ the weight of the words.  _

_ Had I told the sea, _

_ What I felt for you, _

_ It would have left its shores, _

_ Its shells, _

_ Its fish, _

_ And followed me _

__ Brilliant. Nizar Qabbani.

At that moment, Julia imagined herself to be the sea. Cold and blue. Angry on stormy nights, but tranquil in silent sunset afternoons. She was the sea, and though born without legs, nor eyes nor ears, she would forfeit all of her riches to follow Carmen up the shore.

One step. That's all it took. Julia took one step forward, and a cascade of urges began to grapple after her. Begged her to run, to where Carmen sits with open arms, and where the sun would kiss her nose.  _ Come home,  _ it coos.

Julia ceased her steps once she was mere inches away from Carmen, who sits on the edge of the bed, looking up at her with eyes of awe.

"The depth of your love today, is the depth of your wound tomorrow," Carmen quotes, her hands slowly moving from the bed to the curve of Julia's hips, watching it glide down with ease. As if she were made to hold it.

"Nizar Qabbani. Funny, are you reading my mind, Sandiego?"

Funny it really was. As Julia looks down on a Carmen that holds on to her like a lost child, she had the undeniable urge to place her hand on top of her head. As if to say ' _ I'm here _ '. As if to say, ' _ don't cry _ '. So, place her hand on her head she did. And with her fingers, she strokes down, through those auburn locks that visit her dreams ever so often.

"If you were to confess to me right now, tell me. How deep would your wound be tomorrow? Or perhaps, like me, you wouldn't wake at all?" Carmen speaks with her eyes close, relishing the sensation of Julia's finger through her hair, massaging her scalp.

"Would it bring you immense pleasure if I were to answer that question?"

Carmen's hands held on tight to hers as her forehead leans softly against Julia's stomach. She shudders, and she shakes, but she did not let go. _ Pleasure? No. _ That's not what Carmen needs. Neither pleasure nor pain. Neither angels nor demons would be able to dictate for her what she needs.

What she needs was what she holds. Tightly, in her hand, so that it may never part from her again.

"Will you at least spend the night with me?" Carmen looks up in prayer, "sleep next to me."

"Aren't you afraid I might strangle you in your sleep?"

"My love, I do not mind dying by your hands."

And no truer words have been spoken, than that of a woman that loves in spite of fate, in spite of destiny, and in spite of circumstance. A woman that loves another in great ardor that the ground shakes with her words of confession, and the sky glows a humble yellow in celebration. What Carmen feels,  _ the depth  _ of it, she could never fathom. Her thirst, no one could ever quench. Her hunger, no one could ever satisfy. No one but Julia.

_ My soulmate. The love of my life. To whom my vows are reserved for, and to whom, I declare to the Gods that listen, I would spend the rest of my life with. _

"That may have been your 5th confession to me tonight," Julia chuckles, and Carmen drowns at the sound.

"Do I hear complaining in my ears?" She teases.

Has there ever been a night so cold and yet so warm as this? Where the lights of the city a blur, and the stars a distant memory. Where the woman she loves holds her in her arms, while Cupid watches with his bow above.

"Hush, let us sleep. Just for tonight, I will indulge you."

They both clamber onto the bed and under the warmth of the thick duvet, Carmen to the right and Julia to the left. They had left their coats somewhere on the floor, and their boots by the door.

Carmen slept soundly, for the first time in a while, listening to the faint thumping of Julia's heart. Her warmth, and her touch, soothing like cold water on a hot and humid summer day. She dreamt, for the first time in a while, of something other than loss and pain. She dreamt of fireflies and beetles. Of grass and ponds. Of smiles and kisses. Of a fireplace on a snowy Christmas Eve. With Julia next to her, she dreamt of home.

_ Home.  _ What an extraordinary word.

Julia felt like home. Perhaps, because she was. She  _ is. _

No sooner than a few minutes, Carmen had fallen asleep. And when she had awoken, hours later, by the sharp sunlight that peers through the curtains of her wide window, Julia was by her side no more. By her lonesome, she resides once again.

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like this one, it's a bit more poetic than the rest...I think? Anyways, the next chapter still hasn't been written so I don't know when it's going to be uploaded...or finished. Still very busy, I just want this semester to end my goodness.

**Author's Note:**

> Another reason why you should switch to the dark side: We have better music ;)  
> If you listened to the playlist you would understand.
> 
> Anyways I hope you liked this nightmare inspired work I did, comments and kudos are always appreciated.  
> Next Chapter will be posted next week, or some time next week.


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